


Flaming up

by Elveny



Series: Spark of Hope [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 03:15:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8951797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elveny/pseuds/Elveny
Summary: “Ugh, not this again”, Cassandra groaned as she sat down, putting a small kettle with water into the fire. Varric grinned.“Relax, Seeker, this is a version you haven’t heard yet.”





	1. The Walk

**Author's Note:**

> I am currently reworking this whole series since posting it in 2017. It was originally just a rather lose collection of scenes to add flavor to the ingame scenes. By now my headcanon has shifted somewhat and I am trying to make it more of a whole.
> 
> Current state (June 2018) is four added chapters ("The Walk", "You're worth it", "Fade-touched", "Sparks in the night") and an overhaul of eight or so chapters with by now nearly 20k additional words, another updated chapter is coming soon (prepare for more kisses), and I'm only in the 2nd part of this 5 part series. So there is more to come and even more important in my eyes: the existing work will be improved upon. Enjoy and thanks for being patient with me :D

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There was something I wanted to specifically talk to you about,” she added, “But I would prefer to do it not in earshot of…”  
> “Other people?” he asked as she stopped talking but she shook her head.  
> “Humans,” she clarified very quietly.

Turning the corner, Lyssa hesitated as she saw Solas. He looked up at the Breach, that big, swirling, green vortex in the sky. His sharp, elegant features seemed nearly timeless in the way he stood unmoving, hands clasped behind his back, the green shimmer deepening the shadows and edges of his figure. There was a nearly ethereal beauty in his face but what made her stop was the look of longing and sadness she could read in his eyes. She felt as if he was trying to look beyond the Breach to whatever lay behind the borders of their reality. It was not that she couldn’t understand it. She had felt the draw of the hole in the sky as well. But her heart went out for him at the intensity of the feelings she could read in his features. She had seen only glimpses of this version of him before, small moments of warmth or genuine amusement, of a sudden intensity in his eyes that spoke of more than the reclusive, quiet apostate. 

She quietly stepped up to him, following his eyes. “It has something mesmerizing, doesn’t it?” she asked softly and he blinked, barely suppressing the surprise at her sudden appearance, quickly schooling his face into his usual calm and detached mask.

Lyssa gave him a small smile. “My apologies,” she murmured. “I did not mean to startle you.”

Solas cleared his throat as if to overplay his embarrassment at having been caught by surprise and turned towards her. “Herald,” he said in way of greeting and Lyssa flinched. “Please don’t call me that. Not unless you honestly believe in it,” she pleaded and he couldn’t hide a small, amused smile at that.

“Very well. What would you like me to call you?” he asked and she shook her head at him. “My name will be fine, thank you,” she said.

Her eyes went back to the Breach, a thoughtful expression coming to her face as she tilted her head. “I avoid looking too long at it,” she mused after a moment, “for it makes my mind wander to things I cannot change. It makes you forget where you are if you look too long into it. As if that vortex draws you in more and more…” The green swirl seemed to grow as she stared at it and she quickly blinked and looked back at Solas. He watched her with a curious, thoughtful expression and when he met her eyes, straightened slightly. 

“Hera- Lyssa,” he corrected himself quickly. “What can I do for you?”

Lyssa smiled slightly at his attempt to change the subject. “I wanted to ask you if you would care to accompany me on a walk.”

Solas cocked his head, obviously surprised at the question and asked carefully, “So, they allow you alone outside now?” 

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t be unaccompanied after all. But yes. Since they decided I was sent by their Maker instead of being a criminal, they have given me more freedoms. I suppose it makes no difference. We are surrounded by watchful eyes at all times anyway.”

Solas let his eyes wander around, marking the looks they got from passing people, some curious, some reverent, some quickly averting their eyes when they met his gaze. When he looked back at Lyssa, he found her watching him, still waiting for an answer. 

“I… There was something I wanted to specifically talk to you about,” she added, “But I would prefer to do it not in earshot of…”

“Other people?” he asked as she stopped talking but she shook her head.

“Humans,” she clarified very quietly. His eyebrows went up at that but still, he hesitated. Lyssa couldn’t hide the disappointment at the way he so obviously tried to distance himself from her. More than anyone else she had met since the horror of the Temple of Ashes, he had woken her interest with his quiet, unobtrusive support and offered knowledge. But it looked like it was not a mutual interest. She took a step backwards. “I obviously overstepped. Ir abelas. I will leave you alone.”

Lyssa turned to leave but Solas quickly held up a hand. “Lyssa,” he said and she paused, looking back at him. “It is I who has to apologize. Your question took me by surprise that is why I hesitated. I would be honored to accompany you.”

For a moment her eyes darted over his face but she couldn’t see any sign of deception and when he offered her a smile, she returned it, turning slightly in invitation. Together they walked towards the main gate, passing the watchful eyes of the guards. Cassandra perked up when she saw them but did not approach as they went into the small woods. 

 

Lyssa took a deep breath as soon as they were out of sight, pausing for a second to look into the snow-covered tree tops swaying in the wind. This was what she missed most: the silence of the woods, the feeling of peace she only found here. Solas waited patiently until she continued to walk, not pressing her to talk. She appreciated the space he gave her, his presence unobtrusive, and after another few minutes of silence, she said, “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said about the Dalish. And if you want to, I could try to explain.”

He inclined his head after a short pause, indicating her to continue.

“You are not one of the people,” she started quietly but paused when she saw the little twitch in the corner of his lips. “This amuses you,” she said curiously. “Why?”

He raised his eyebrows at her, his eyes slightly narrowed as if he was trying to decipher what she had just said.

“My apologies,” he finally answered somewhat hesitatingly, “I did not mean to offend.”

“I’m not offended,” Lyssa said, drawing her brows together the tiniest bit. “I was just curious why you would be amused by me saying that you’re not one of the people.”

“I…” he started, then shook his head, smiling slightly. “It is nothing. You are correct. I am not one of your people.”

Now, Lyssa shook her head. “No, that is not what I said. I said you’re not of  _ the _ people. You are not Dalish. But you are one of my people nonetheless.” His eyes grew more intense as she repeated the words she had offered back at their first conversation about the Dalish but he didn’t interrupt her and so she continued, “However, there are clans who do think otherwise. Who set themselves apart so far from those not born to them that they actively reject everyone else. There are those who wouldn’t even talk to me when the clans meet at the Arlathven. But that is not the Dalish per se.”

Solas furrowed his brow slightly. “Why wouldn’t they talk to you?”

“Well, I was not born to the Dalish either. I grew up in the Denerim alienage and came to the Dalish when I was 15. My clan is one of those who do not shy away from sheltering those in need. And more than that, we are willing to learn from those who offer knowledge.”

“I see,” was the thoughtful answer and for a few steps, there was nothing to be heard but the sound of their feet breaking through the harsh, frozen surface of the snow as they wandered beneath the winter trees and of the creaking of trees blowing in the wind that carried with it the smell of more snow. After a moment of waiting if Solas would say anything else, Lyssa stopped, turning towards him. He looked down at her in surprise as she laid a hand on his arm, her touch light but warm. “What I am trying to say,” she said, looking at him seriously, “is that I would make right what disservice the other clan has done to you. You say you have walked the Fade, seen what we have only been trying to piece together from memories and stories and from searching ruins. I would gladly share what knowledge I have and learn what you have seen, hahren.”

He paused at the honorary title and something softened in his features as he indicated his head to her. “Ma serannas, da’len.” When she smiled at the official response he laid his hand upon hers where it still rested upon his arm, squeezing her fingers and added, “If I can offer any understanding, you have but to ask.”

She surprised him with a rare laugh, delight lighting up her whole face. “Oh, Solas. I am not sure you know what you just did.”

Solas couldn’t help but smile at the open joy that was visible in her features, chasing away the haunted, guarded look she usually wore. Still, he did not quite understand what she meant, shaking his head in confusion. “Why, what…”

Lyssa laughed again. “You just gave me free reign to ask you questions. I am a Keeper. Or, will be a Keeper one day,” she amended, taking her hand off his arm and starting to walk again, her smile fading as she added, “if I can return home one day, that is.” Then she collected herself again, smiling again up at Solas who kept pace beside her. “In any case, I am one of those who preserve what knowledge we have and add to it whatever we can. Keepers of the lost lore, walkers of the lonely path…” She looked down at her hands for a second as remembered the oath she had once taken, that had finally marked her as one of the Dalish. “In summary, I am curious. So you will have to be prepared for a lot of questions. I apologize in advance.”

Solas looked at her for a long moment, and Lyssa was surprised to detect genuine delight in his face. In the two or so weeks she had now known him, he had primarily been guarded and drawn back. Not unfriendly, but sort of detached and sometimes even prideful. But she could see none of that in his face now, only open joy and warmth and for the first time, she felt a connection between the two of them as he stopped, turning towards her. 

“Never apologize for the willingness to learn,” he said and gave her an honest and open smile that she returned with happy gratitude. It was rare that she met someone who acknowledged or even matched her enthusiasm for learning and knowledge.

“Can I ask you something?” Solas asked as they took up their walk back towards Haven again and Lyssa nodded. “Of course.”

“You are wearing the vallaslin of Sylaise, are you not?”

She looked at him curiously but the detached and guarded mask had come back on. For someone not part of the Dalish, he had quite the eye for details. And indeed more knowledge about her culture she had ever seen someone display who was not one of the people. After a moment she confirmed, “I am. Why are you asking?”

“I was wondering why.”

Lyssa blinked. “Why?” she repeated, unsure what he meant.

“Yes. Why her? Why not some other… god?” He was not looking at her as he posed the question but despite his carefully arranged neutral face, she could see the small, involuntary twitch of his lip that showed he was not quite as detached as he wanted to seem. She watched him for a moment, pondering the question, before she answered, “We choose the God we want to honor with our vallaslin ourselves. I chose Sylaise because… well, because she is the protector of the hearth, the healer and wielder of fire. We honor her when we built a home, when we light a fire. She is the one who taught us how to heal with herbs and magic. It is what I found with my clan: a home. It is where I learned to heal. And fire magic, her magic, is the element that comes most naturally to me.” She held out her palm and summoned a small flame, turning it into the blue-white healing light that by now was as second nature to her as her fire, swirling softly before it burst into a thousand little sparks that sank into the snow as she closed her fingers above it. “She stands for peace and protection. By wearing her vallaslin, I honor that.”

Solas nodded, his guarded mask having softened to a thoughtful expression. “Ma serannas. For sharing this with me.”

Lyssa inclined her head and they continued their way in silence. It was not an uncomfortable silence, though. For the first time, Lyssa felt like she had made a real connection with someone here. That alone was worth more than she had thought it would be.

 

When they approached the main gate, Cullen caught sight of them just as he stepped out. Without hesitation he went towards them and instinctively, Lyssa slowed down. She did not notice the look Solas gave her as she stopped before Cullen had even reached them, withdrawing into herself as if to make herself invisible. It was still hard for her not to instinctively lash out at the human who so eerily reminded her of the man who had killed Nelos. She kept expecting an attack, even though Cullen hadn’t been anything but polite towards her. Lyssa knew it wasn’t fair towards him and tried to restrain herself but she couldn’t suppress the feeling of instinctive fear he invoked. It was something she was working on. “Commander,” she greeted him in an effort to be friendly and he nodded at them both, seemingly not noticing her defensive posture.

“There is something we need to discuss, Herald,” he said. “We got word of a Chantry mother in the Hinterlands who might be able to aid us.”

“Of course,” she nodded and turned to Solas, giving him a tentative smile. “Thank you for the walk.”

He inclined his head at her, returning the smile. “Any time.” He followed her with his eyes as she walked away with Cullen, always a careful step behind the Commander, a thoughtful expression on his face.

 


	2. Hinterlands

“Where is she now?” Cassandra asked with a disgusted noise as she realized that Lyssa was nowhere to be seen. They all stopped and she wiped the sweat from her forehead. They had underestimated the temperature difference between Haven and the Hinterlands and were a bit overdressed. Solas used the opportunity to take his coat off and put it on his rucksack, seemingly unperturbed.

“Maybe she finally grew a head and left after all," Varric said, grinning when Cassandra glared at him.

“I promised to stay and I will," Lyssa said calmly as she came out from beneath the trees towards them, the arms full of elfroot. She had watched them amusedly for some moments.

“You stopped for… this?” Cassandra sputtered, clearly confused, gesticulating at the plants. Lyssa nodded.

“Of course. This is elfroot," as if this explained everything.

Cassandra and Varric shared a confused look while Solas just smiled. Lyssa sat down with crossed legs to sort through the plants and after a moment, Varric shrugged.

“Well, this is as good a point to take a break as any.”

He sat on a small boulder, taking Bianca off and shrugging out of his coat. Cassandra looked from one to another before she sighed.

“Alright then," she said, a bit sourly, “but just a short one. We still have a long way to cover.”

“The more reason to keep up our strength," Lyssa stated calmly, her hands quickly and practised breaking off bad or crumpled leaves, wiping insects from the plants and gathering the best leaves. Solas sat down as well across Lyssa, giving her a hand. Lyssa smiled at him as she realized that his hands were just as practised as hers at this task. For a second he seemed surprised at both her work and her smile, a tiny flicker of the corner of his mouth betraying his approval. Somehow this delighted Lyssa more than she had expected and for a second she allowed herself to watch him even as she worked, trying to pinpoint what exactly it was that had held her attention.

It probably just was the familiarity of the situation, she finally decided. It was something that could have easily have happened in the camp back home - someone starting a task and others joining in while sharing stories.

A short pang of sadness that was familiar by now came with the thought but it was short-lived. She tried to see it as a sign: making a home was possible everywhere. If she had managed to to it in the midst of a Blight, she could do it now again, she decided. Maybe she didn’t even have to do it alone, she mused, watching Solas’ long, delicate fingers pick another leaf. There was help here as well. Lyssa starting humming to herself, working with the plants a welcome normality in this crazy new life.

“You seem to be in a good mood," Cassandra remarked and when Lyssa realized it had been directed at her, she nodded and shrugged at the same time.

“It’s good to be outside again. Outside and in the warmth. I’m not much use holed up permanently in a snow-covered village," she said.

“Personally, I could use less warmth at the moment," Varric commented and took a big swig of his waterskin.

“Here, give it to me," Lyssa said and he gave her the waterskin. But instead of drinking as well, she took two or three leaves, crumbling them between her hands and putting them into the waterskin, giving it a shake before handing it back to Varric.

“Aaaaaalright," he made suspiciously and she gave him an amused smile.

“Try it," she said.

Varric gave her a long look, then he shrugged and tasted. With a thoughtful look he moved the water in his mouth, before he swallowed.

“Sort of… minty?" he said and Lyssa nodded approvingly.

“You’ll see. In a few minutes you’ll be much refreshed and won't mind the warmth. Cassandra?”

Lyssa had put a few leaves in her own water skin as well and done the same for Solas who had given her his without her having to ask for it. Now she looked at the Seeker who still eyed her somewhat suspiciously. When Cassandra didn't react, Lyssa let her hand sink and shrugged, getting back to bundling the plants in front of her. She couldn’t hide that Cassandra’s distrust hurt her, after she had been nothing but forthcoming and they had already fought side by side several times.

“Oh come on, Seeker. If I can stomach it, you can, too," Varric grumbled after looking at Lyssa.

“It’s alright, Varric," Lyssa said, standing up and fastening the elfroot bundle at her belt, next to another bundle of nearly-dry embrium. “I understand it. I really do. Not everyone approves of -”

“It’s not that," Cassandra suddenly interrupted her and something in her voice made Lyssa look up. To her surprise, Cassandra returned her look without flinching before she repeated: “It’s not that.” Lyssa searched for the telltale signs that would tell her that the Seeker was lying and found none. She nodded and Cassandra seemed relieved. Then the warrior gripped her sword and swung her shield back on her back. “Let’s go on.”

When they made camp that night, Lyssa waited until she could get Cassandra alone before approaching her. She had watched the Seeker for the rest of the day and nearly slapped her forehead as she realized what was going on. She could’ve seen it sooner. Without further ado, she gave Cassandra a small poach.

“What’s this?" Cassandra asked but this time more curious than suspicious, opening it and looking at the light brown and green powder within.

“It’ll help with the cramps," Lyssa said. “You needn’t have worried about the elfroot," she added. “It wouldn’t have made it worse.”

Small red dots appeared in Cassandra’s cheeks and she seemed terribly embarrassed. “How… did you know?”

Lyssa gave her a small smile. “I’m both a healer and a woman, Cassandra. I know the signs. This is mainly ground willow’s bark, rasperry leaves and lady’s mantle. Two pinches in hot water per cup  should make you comfortable. You can take them up to five times a day if need be. And if you want, I can heat a stone which you can take into your bedroll before you retire.”

The red dots on Cassandra’s cheeks were flaming and for some moments she was too flustered to speak but she nodded and gripped the poach a bit harder.

“I…” she started, then caught herself, looking Lyssa square in the eye. “Thank you. And I am sorry about earlier. The first day is always the worst and any stimulant usually makes it even worse.”

Lyssa nodded. “I understand. You could’ve come to me directly - I told you I was also trained as a healer, didn’t I?”

This time, Cassandra was openly blushing and definitely uncomfortable.

“I know. But I didn’t think you’d be able to do anything. You are…” She stopped embarrassed  and Lyssa knew immediately what she had wanted to say.

She took a deep breath, before ending the sentence: “I’m only Dalish after all, right?”

Cassandra’s face told her that she was dead-on. Lyssa looked to the ground, moving her weight from one foot to the other. She wasn’t really surprised but still not used to this casual degradation of her self and her culture. Suddenly, Cassandra surprised her by touching her arm.

“I won’t make such a mistake again," the Seeker said with conviction and Lyssa saw she meant it.

“Good.” She gave Cassandra another smile before she returned to the campfire where Solas was preparing a rabbit Varric had shot this afternoon. The dwarf was nowhere to be seen.

Solas watched her as she settled down next to the fire and stretched her hands and feet towards the fire with a content sigh. The evenings still got cold very early.

“Lady’s mantle?” he asked after a while, breaking the surprisingly comfortable silence and Lyssa followed his eyes to Cassandra’s tent into which the Seeker had disappeared to take off her armour. She perked up and smiled.

“Yes. And raspberry leaves and willow’s bark. You saw it as well?”

Solas gave her a smile. “I know a bit of healing as well, so - yes.”

“Why haven’t you said anything to her?" Lyssa asked.

“Well. The Seeker doesn’t strike me as one of the women trusting a man with these issues.” He didn’t seem offended at all, just stating a fact and Lyssa nodded, starting to loosen her braids.

“I hadn’t heard of using raspberry leaves?" Solas asked and looked at her, pausing when he saw her shaking out her hair before she started to brush it. She didn’t see the sudden intensity of his gaze, working the comb through the long strands.

“You haven’t? Do add it to your recipe. It’s also a perfect preparation for a birth, only in the last weeks though.”

He gave her a look she couldn’t really read and that itself was something so unusual, she let her hands sink. “What is it?” she asked, suddenly concerned but his guards were back up and he smiled before looking back to the rabbit over the fire.

“It’s nothing," he said. “Tell me about the other ingredients. Or is it a Dalish secret?”

She narrowed her eyes at him but this time she could see that he was deliberately teasing her.

“Ha ha," she made drily and shook her head, before she continued to brush her hair while listing the ingredients of the tea. When Varric reappeared a few minutes later from his tent, the small polishing kit he used daily on Bianca in his hands, they were deep in conversation, exchanging knowledge and ideas. He shook his head.

“Good thing Anders isn’t here," he mumbled, sitting down next to Lyssa.

“Why?" she asked and he gave her a certain look.

“You wouldn’t stop for days. Two healers at one fire is bad enough, believe me.”

“Sorry," Lyssa laughed. “What would you rather talk about?”

“Anything!” he exclaimed. “Have I told you about how we managed to save the Viscount’s son from slavers? Well, he wasn’t really the Viscount’s son but still. Good story.”

Lyssa had rebraided her hair into a simple plait and exchanged an amused look with Solas. “You haven’t,” she said and Varric settled into a more comfortable position, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Well. We were down in Kirkwalls Alienage, minding our own business, when suddenly we heard the desperate cries of a woman.”

“Ugh, not this again," Cassandra groaned as she came out of her tent and sat down, putting a small kettle with water into the fire. Lyssa looked at her and one eyebrow went up as she realized the grumpiness was fake. The Seeker actually enjoyed listening to Varric’s stories, it seemed. Varric grinned.

“Relax, Seeker, this is a version you haven’t heard yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both lady's mantle and raspberry leaves are indeed herbs used to relieve menstruation cramps. Especially raspberry leaves can be, if used as tea in the weeks before the birth, a great help in easing the birth. It losens the womb and has slight painkilling attributes.


	3. New moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Honeycomb cake”, she said and his eyes lit up.
> 
> “My favourite!”

“What’s this?" Solas asked when he rejoined the others at the fire. A sweet, rich scent rose from the small cakes Lyssa had just taken from the embers, filling the night. The late summer heat still lingered in the air and crickets were chirping everywhere around them. Normally, they would have settled into their respective tents by now but then Lyssa had started to bake and Blackwall had taken out a small bottle and somehow it had turned into an evening of comfort and conversation, making the hours short. Lyssa gave everyone a piece - everyone but Sera who got three. When Lyssa had overheard the exchange between Sera and Blackwall, where Sera had talked about being in your bones hungry, her heart had clenched in sympathy. Even after her journey to the Dalish where she nearly starved to death she had been badly hungry a few times and she remembered the hollow ache, the painful sores and too visible bones in her body only too well. It was an experience she never wanted to repeat - which was why she always had something to eat on her. And if she could make Sera happy with something so simple, why not? Sera’s face lit up as she saw the three pieces on her plate.

“You remembered! Thanks, luv!”

“Of course I did,” Lyssa smiled at Sera before answering Solas. “Honeycomb cake," she said and his eyes lit up.

“My favourite!”

“It smells delicious," Blackwall said delighted and Lyssa smiled.

“It’s my mother’s recipe. I always make it at new moon.” She put a small piece aside, adding a dot of cream she had brought especially for this occasion and sprinkled some hacked nuts onto it, placing a tiny beautiful flower next to it.

“Why new moon?" Sera asked around a mouth full of cake.

“The legend tells us that new moon is the night of Fen’Harel - the one night a month when it is darkest and he can roam unseen. The cake is a peace offering, asking him to leave us in peace and pass by. Legend has it, he has a sweet tooth with a special preference for honeycomb cake, though I’ve heard other versions as well.”

Solas had let his hands sink down and stared at her and Lyssa blinked confused. He suddenly seemed shocked but the expression was gone as quickly as it had come. He looked back down on his cake, his face hidden from her.

“Fen’Harel?” Blackwall asked curiously.

“Dread Wolf, trickster god, a baddie," Sera said, “innit?”

Lyssa still looked at Solas, trying to figure out what had just happened but Sera poked her and she nodded.

“Right," she said slowly, then forced her attention away from Solas, nodding again at Sera and Blackwall. Sera took another huge bite.

“If it were me which it ain’t and I’m not believin’ in him and stuff but if it were, I’d threaten and not coddle him. Come here and get an arrow, y’know?”

Lyssa couldn’t help but chuckle. “That’s what the wolfsbane is for.” She indicated the small flower. “Take the cake and leave in peace or be prepared for a fight if you come closer.”

“I like it," Blackwall stated. “Both cake and story, I mean.”

Lyssa smiled at him. “Thank you.”

When she came back from where she had placed the offering to Fen’Harel at the camp’s edge with a small prayer, Solas was watching her. He no longer looked upset but rather amused, though not in the condescending way as she had come to expect from people confronted with her traditions and beliefs. She looked at him curiously and he smiled, a mischievous touch to the way he looked at her as if he had made a joke only he understood.

“Can I have another one?" he asked.

“Sure," Lyssa said, still curious, “I made more than usual.” She winked at Sera who grinned delightedly.

“I did mention it was my favourite, right?” Solas said and Lyssa smiled amused.

“Yes, I know. I remembered that as well.”

Their fingers touched as she gave him another piece and his smile changed again, this time getting warmer.

“Thank you," he said simply but the way his lips curved and his eyes narrowed just the tiniest bit told Lyssa that there was more to the situation. Something within her tingled, a warm and familiar feeling she hadn’t known in a long time and suddenly she felt warmer. For the rest of the evening, Lyssa’s eyes continued to come back to him, always meeting his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wolfsbane (or Aconitum) is an extremely(!) poisonous but beautiful plant of various colours growing all over the northern hemisphere.


	4. You're worth it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why did you do that! Made me go away an’ all! I still had arrows!”

The darkness faded only slowly into a misty grey as Lyssa opened her eyes. For the longest moment she only lay there, unable to move, her mind working to catch up with what had happened.

The corrupted dragon. The Elder One. The avalanche.

The avalanche!

The memory came back in a rush, tumbling stones and snow, that horrible, deafening sound of the nearing certain death as she ran in panic, the pain as she was hurtled forwards and down, down into darkness. Lyssa gasped as she tried to turn to her side, sharp, red pain going through her shoulder and ribs, echoing in every muscle and bone and she gave a strangled cry. The first movements were torture, her muscles sore and hard as stone, every limb cramping and Lyssa felt as if her very being consisted only of pain as she slowly, slowly picked herself up from the hard, ice-cold rock on which she had landed.

She whimpered as she finally had made it into a kneeling position, a red haze in front of her eyes and the throbbing pain making it hard to focus. Hot tears ran down her face and the breath she gasped in was hurting in places she hadn’t known could hurt. This was bad. Her right shoulder seemed to be reduced to a big knot of pain and she couldn’t move her arm. Breathing hurt and when she carefully touched her forehead and cheek with her left hand, she felt a thick, crumbling sheet of dried blood.

Lyssa didn’t know how long she just sat there, trying to breathe and not lose consciousness again, the minutes ticking by in the rhythm of a faint water drop somewhere in that cave into which she had plunged into. Finally she managed to fumble at her belt with stiff fingers, finding the pouch where she kept a few vials with healing potion. As expected she found mostly glass shards but somehow three of the vials had survived the fall. Her hand was shaking as she pulled the corks out with her teeth and downed them all, ignoring the dizziness the movement of her head immediately elicited. The effect wasn’t as quick as she had hoped but after another few minutes she found she could breathe easier and the throbbing pain in her head had subsided enough that she found herself able to think again. Carefully, she took stock of her injuries. Her right shoulder seemed to be only strained and the potions had eased the pain already notably but her arm seemed to be broken. She didn’t dare peel off her leather forearm protectors but a superficial check told her that the bones hadn’t broken through the skin at least. She wasn’t sure whether her ribs were broken as well but didn’t think about it too much - there wasn’t anything she could do about that anyway. Same about her hip… but at least she was still able to move, even if it hurt like the Blight.

It took her long to be able to summon her magic and even longer to be able to concentrate enough to send it through her body, trying to find the worst spots and healing at least some of it so that she finally was able to get up again, her right arm pressed tightly against her body. Her legs screamed in protest as she took the first steps into the cave passage opening in front of her. It nearly looked like a mine shaft and Lyssa faintly remembered how Cullen had once told her that the whole mountain was riddled with these kind of passages and caves, only half of which were actually explored. She had been lucky beyond measure. Now she could only hope to find a way out of the mountain. And then towards where the rest of Haven’s refugees were. At least she knew they made it out - the red flare still like a beacon bright in her mind. She only hoped that her companions had made it out as well - Solas, Cassandra, Sera, those who had been with her until the corrupted dragon had separated them and she had madly gestured at them to leave, to get to safety. Before the emerging, dreadful figure of the Elder One had found its way towards her through the flames. She hadn’t expected to come out of the whole thing alive, had in fact known this was a suicide mission from the moment she had told Cullen to get the people through the passage.

And yet, there she was. Bruised and battered, with broken bones and in bad pain, but she was still there.

The following hours went by in a haze. She wasn’t surprised when she met despair demons - so close to the Breach and after the attack she had expected even more demons. After the surprisingly short fight she just stared at her hand, the green flickering between her fingers, slowly flexing them. Something was different. What had the Elder One done? When he had snatched her up at the arm, it had felt as if he tried to pull the inside of her hand out through the skin, angry green sparks and tiny lightning bolts flashing and Lyssa had felt it through her whole body. It hadn’t exactly hurt but it had been… weird. As if something had pulled at her very being and failed. But it had woken something, made her more aware of where the Anchor sat and how it interconnected with her own magic. When the despair demons had attacked she hadn’t even thought about what to do, just used it and they had faded back behind the Veil. It seemed as if without meaning to, the Elder One had strengthened her. The thought gave her back some resolve and she closed her hand to a fist, straightening before she limped on, towards the icy breeze that told her there was an opening ahead.

The storm that greeted her only made her hesitate shortly. She knew if she stopped now she might not get up again soon - and the longer she waited, the farther the others would be away. And she needed to catch up with them as long as she was able to walk. The cold dulled the pain in her limbs as she fought on step for step. The storm and the darkness of night made it difficult to see how far she got and when she stopped feeling her feet, she no longer cared. The first campsite she found was cold and already halfway covered in snow, left behind for at least a day. It was the first indication of how long she had been unconscious after falling into the cave. It had been night when the attack came and she had been out of it for several hours at least, she supposed, followed by more hours inside the mountain during which the day had come and gone. Then the stumble through the snow storm... She had lost at least that one day.

She stopped only long enough to rekindle the fire with her magic so that some feeling came back into her body before she went on. She didn’t mind the pain that also came back with it half as much as the numbness. The pain kept her alert, kept her going through the grey dawn that shimmered through the still howling storm that only slowly died down during the following hours. The second campsite she found some time during the day was also nearly cold - nearly. She was catching up! It seemed that even with her injuries she was able to outmatch the pace of such a big group as the refugees from Haven.

After she lit the fire again this time, she allowed herself to close her eyes for a while in a try to alleviate some of the black exhaustion that made her steps slower and slower and the pain in her broken arm worse. When she woke, the fire had gone out again and she was shivering, barely managing to use her magic to warm herself up again. But the clouds had ripped open wide enough to show a sinking sun, making her pick up the pace as much as possible. Two or three days since the attack on Haven. For a moment she was close to a panic but with an effort, she put the thought out of her mind. The campsite had still had some faint warmth left. She was catching up - or had been catching up before she had fallen asleep. So she could still do it.

The storm started again that night and Lyssa didn’t dare stop to even catch her breath, afraid she wouldn’t be able to get up again and be snowed in. She fought from tree to tree until there were no more trees, then from boulder to boulder, following the only way she could think of: up and away from Haven. The Breach was a green scar shimmering in the sky, still visible now and then through the racing clouds that were being torn apart by the whipping cold winds. The stars died and a cold sun rose and Lyssa fought on throughout the grey, stormy day. Finally, when the darkness of night came again, the storm seemed to calm down for good, the snowflakes slowing to a silent fall. She nearly missed the third campfire, her thoughts barely more than disjointed scraps of keep going, keep going… The dying glow of embers in one of the campfires was what caught her attention and she sank down to her knees, unable to even try to move her right hand and too exhausted to cry from relief as she realized that she was indeed catching up. If there were still glowing coals here, they couldn’t be much more than a few hours ahead. She barely managed to coax another burst of her healing magic through herself to force herself up again, onwards, through the boulders and the nearly knee-deep snow. 

“There! It’s her!”

She dismissed the first voice she heard as imagination, as wishful thinking. But then there was the unmistakable shine of light down the path, the warmth of campfires visible. Lyssa stopped as she saw someone running towards her and just like that, her legs gave in and she fell down to her knees.

“Thank the Maker!” Was that Cassandra’s voice? A wave of relief washed through Lyssa as she saw the warrior rush towards her.

Several hands were there to steady her but she only looked at Cassandra. “You made it!” she wanted to call in relief but all that came out was a tired murmur. The Seeker gave her a warm smile, wrapping an arm around her waist as she steadied her.

“I did. We all did. Thanks to you.”

“Solas? Sera?” Lyssa whispered and Cassandra nodded.

“They are safe as well. Let’s get you to the camp.”

It was the last thing Lyssa heard before she collapsed.

She woke to the touch of cool fingers on her face and the feeling of magic engulfing her. There was no searing pain, just a dull background hurt throughout her body, telling her that she was probably heavily dosed with potions. A familiar sight greeted her as she opened her eyes; Solas sitting next to her, his face calm and concentrated as he worked his magic. It reminded her of the moment in Haven when she had woken for a brief moment after she had stumbled out of the Fade, even before she had found herself in chains. Back then he had also healed her, stabilizing the Anchor even though she hadn’t known it yet. When Solas met her eyes, he smiled and the flow of magic around her stopped.

“You made it,” Lyssa murmured and he nodded.

“So did you. Again.”

“That was so stupid!” Suddenly Sera’s face was next to Solas, giving her an angry glare. “Why did you do that! Made me go away an’ all! I still had arrows!”

“Sera…” Solas sighed, annoyance in his voice but she shook her head.

“No! It was stupid! You could’ve died! I thought you were dead, we all did! You could’ve been crushed in that stupid avalanche! Why would you give yourself up and send me away? Why!” It was more a demand than a question and Lyssa could see the uproar of emotion in Sera’s face, in the way she blinked a bit too often and pressed her lips together, raising her chin.

“Because you’re worth it,” she simply answered and Sera gave a jerk as if Lyssa had hit her. “You’re worth saving.” Her eyes wandered back to Solas who had stilled at her words, looking at her with a rare softness in his features. “You all are.”

For a moment there was silence, then Sera wiped her hand over her eyes in an angry gesture. “Still stupid,” she snarled and stalked away. Lyssa just smiled and closed her eyes.

“Thank you,” she heard Solas’ very quiet voice just before she fell asleep again. She slowly opened her eyes again to look at him.

“For what?”

“Saving us,” he clarified and the blue glow of healing magic started to flow from his hands again, soothing the flaring up pain and soreness in her right arm and ribs. She sighed thankfully, raising her left hand to take his.

“I always will if I can,” she murmured, the words blurring together already as she felt herself sink back into the healing darkness. Solas gave her hand a slight squeeze and laid it back down when he saw she was unconscious again, a soft, thoughtful expression on his face.


	5. Marked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How can I be what they need me to be when I’m hurting all the time and short-tempered and lonely and don't know where I’m going?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to Carrie Fisher who always kept going. Rest in peace. You were an inspiration, General.

“Are you alright?" Solas asked when he finally found Lyssa. The question was a simple one and asked very calmly but when she looked up, she could see a mix of worry and relief around his eyes. He was always so well-composed that some thought him detached and cold but Lyssa could see there was so much more to him - just like now. To most he would seem calm but she could see in the way he let out his breath and how the strain around his mouth eased how worried he had actually been. She gave him a guilty smile and with a conscious effort loosened the grip of her fingers where she had hugged herself. “Yes, I am.”

Solas raised an eyebrow at her words and stepped closer. “There is no need to lie to me, lethallan," he said softly.

Lyssa took a deep breath and looked down, his remark unsettling her more than she would’ve liked to admit. She should’ve known that it wouldn’t work on him. Though she was surprised how many people were deceived by her lies - or just didn’t call her out - Solas never had been one of them. It still wasn’t often that someone cared enough to actually check how she was. And the truth was, she wasn’t alright, hadn’t been since Haven, and not because of her injuries which healed just fine. The only thing that still seriously bothered her was her broken arm and that would take another few weeks to heal completely. They had been underway for nearly two weeks now and the strains and bruises were mostly gone, just leaving yellowing patches on most of her body. But Lyssa had stopped counting how many nights she had lain awake, not daring to sleep for fear of nightmares. Nightmares in which she saw the Elder One again, this time coming for her through the snowstorm to finish the job. Or in which she watched her fingers break off from the cold because she hadn’t been able to find her way to the camp or in which the Breach reopened, this time to swallow her whole.

It were lonely nights, despite the many people around her.

She had barely had time to realize that she had survived the avalanche and the way towards the camp. It had taken her two days of sleep and many, many potions additionally to the healer’s attentions before she was able to get up again and when she finally did, people had started worshipping her. The moment when they had knelt before her was still one of those she had trouble wrapping her head around. She had been dumbstruck, overwhelmed, still exhausted to the bones but nobody had seemed to notice. Nobody but Solas, who had quietly led her away.

She still didn’t know how to react to people kneeling down before her or to those telling her their innermost fears along with the plea to talk to Andraste on their behalf. There was no moment in the day where she didn’t have eyes on her. And while Solas directed her discreetly towards the stronghold he knew, it wasn’t him they looked to for direction. Lyssa knew they didn’t really mean her but what she represented in their eyes but that knowledge didn’t really make it better. It just made her feel less than a person.

This night, she had no longer been able to stomach it. After laying awake again for too long, she had just taken off, ignoring the questions by the guards, searching for a place to be at peace, to be alone, to breathe. But they were so high in the mountains that there were no trees, no plants to collect, no deer to watch - nothing she would normally do to calm down. She had nearly stumbled over the edge of a cliff and taken this as a sign to stop, sitting down to watch the stars, trying to somehow find some calmness. She should have known that the guards would alert Cullen who in turn had probably raised the whole camp. The thought of going back to questions and worries and whispers and looks horrified her and suddenly she regretted leaving at all. It had been a spur of the moment but it would have consequences… like everything she did at the moment, it seemed.

Solas sat down next to her when she didn’t answer him. Unconsciously, she realized how careful he positioned himself - close, but not too close to impose on her.

“Did Cullen send you?” she asked tonelessly but Solas shook his head.

“Not directly. He was worried but when I told him I’d bring you back, he seemed calm enough.”

Lyssa breathed a sigh of relief. So there weren’t half a dozen guards searching the mountains for her.

“Lyssa, what is it?" Solas asked after another moment of silence and she was surprised by the warmth in the question. She looked over the valley that opened up directly before them like a gap in the mountainside, a clear sky full of stars stretching above them.

“I don’t think I can do this for much longer, Solas," she finally admitted in a voice barely louder than whisper. Her fingers gripped into her sides painfully as she hugged herself closer and suddenly, the words she had avoided just came. “How can I be Andraste’s Chosen and the one leading them to safety? Just because I am the one who survived Corypheus’ attack and an avalanche and the snow? How can they think it’s a sign from their god when all it has been is coincidence and not something I did? First, the Mark of which I still don’t know how it came to be on my hand, then a stupid mistake Corypheus made and pure luck, now it’s actually you who knows the way, not me. And still they look at me, ask me, me of all people to bless them!” She shook her head, looking at the sky where The White Wolf constellation twinkled directly above them. The velvety blackness seemed endless up here, so far away from every part of civilisation, the stars silver and blue and golden sparkles that were brighter than she had ever seen before. But tonight it seemed ready to swallow her. “They look at me but they don’t see me. They see a symbol, their herald, their saviour, but not me. I am embodied hope and somehow they forget I am a person.” Her throat was tight and the silence next to her was deafening. But still she kept going, fearing she would stop if she looked at him and saw only incomprehension. The moon hid behind the dark clouds that had started to climb over the mountain tops, deepening the shadows all around them. “And I know they need that right now. They need someone to project their hopes on. But how can I be all that when I can barely sleep or cope with the cold? How can I be what they need me to be when I’m hurting all the time and short-tempered and lonely and don’t know where I’m going?”

Her desperate and exhausted words seemed to hang in the cold air between the tiny snowflakes that had started to fall. An icy wind picked them up and carried them away and Lyssa took a deep breath, filling her lungs with cold against the threatening tears before she finally looked at Solas who had become very still next to her. He seemed stricken. And at the same time there was an unconditional understanding in his eyes. It was so complete that Lyssa was baffled and wondered just for a second where he had experienced something like that himself - because she couldn’t think of anything else that would make him understand that well.

“I wish I had advice for you," he eventually said, nearly as quietly as she. “But I fear that only you yourself can find a way how to deal with the expectations they put on you. However, I think you underestimate yourself. You will be able to bear it. How can you not? You made it through already.”

“Barely,” Lyssa interrupted but he shook his head.

“Maybe so but you still made it. You have all the strength you need. It might not be something you chose but you were marked for it nonetheless.”

Lyssa looked down on her left hand, making a fist over the Anchor. “Marked indeed," she murmured and Solas surprised her with a short laugh. Somehow, the sound cheered her up.

“Indeed," he repeated and the amusement resonated in his voice. When she looked at him again, he openly smiled at her. “By coincidence or fate, it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that you can do it. You already did what nobody else could and I’m not talking about surviving Haven. It started much earlier - when you survived receiving the Anchor. And this is something you did on your own. It was your will and strength that pulled you through. Nobody else.”

Lyssa stared at him for a few moments, stunned not only by what he had said but how he had said it. He had already been warm and friendly with her but there was a passion and understanding in his voice that touched her more than she had anticipated. “Thank you," she finally murmured and he nodded.

“You can make this work, I know it. If anyone can, it is you," he said, his voice dropping ever so slightly and Lyssa felt herself blushing, despite everything that still clung to her.

“And about the rest - we can work on that," Solas added with a certainty she wish she could feel herself. “If you have difficulties sleeping, I can help you.”

Lyssa hesitated for a second. “It’s not that I can’t fall asleep, it’s the dreams," she finally admitted.

“I see.” Solas was quiet for a few moments. He seemed to battle with something and then came to a conclusion. “If you wish," he started, somewhat hesitantly, “I could keep watch.”

Lyssa blinked, unsure whether she understood him correctly. “Keep watch… over my dreams?”

Solas nodded, becoming professional despite or maybe because of the delicate matter. “As you know I’ve made the Fade my primary subject of study. I am familiar with directing dreams. And if not that, at least keep demons at bay.”

She sat up a little bit more upright. The thought of demons catching a ride on her dreams towards her actually hadn’t occurred to her - maybe that was the reason the Elder One came closer each night. Still, the thought of someone watching her dreams, no matter the reason, was somewhat unnerving. “Would you be in my dreams then?" she asked, suddenly remembering that he had featured in her dreams already once or twice. While the thought to have him appear again wasn’t something to be avoided, she figured it might be embarrassing for both of them if he saw her unconscious, uncensored image of himself.

Solas cocked his head ever so slightly and a slow smile spread over his lips. “Only if you wished me to be.”

There it was again, the spark and the connection and Lyssa smiled back at him, the first honest smile in days, her cheeks warm. To her delight she saw colour creep into the tips of his ears and suddenly, the night no longer seemed as cold. He cleared his throat and looked over the valley again before he added, “They still are your dreams. I wouldn’t invade your privacy.”

For a moment she just looked at him, noticing his elegant, nearly timeless features and how the starlight touched his skin, the snowflakes falling around it. With a soft voice she said, “Thank you, Solas. I will consider it.”

He looked back at her and nodded slightly, then he got up and offered her a hand. She accepted and he helped her up, carefully aware of not touching her injured arm. But he didn’t let go when she stood before him like she anticipated and kept her hand tenderly between his fingers. His voice was warm as he said: “I did not want to impose on you, especially since you seem to barely be alone. But if you ever need an open ear, I am here for you. There is no need to be lonely, Lyssa.”

His words hit home and suddenly, the tears that had threatened before were back, shimmering in her eyes and she swallowed hard to keep them from falling. For a second, the grip of his hand around hers tightened and his eyes were soft with understanding and Lyssa knew that he actually did understand. She took a deep breath, blinking the tears away, squeezing his hand back and nodded. Then she let his hand go.

“We should get back before Cullen launches search parties after all," she said and if her voice was somehow strained, he didn’t seem to notice. They went back to the camp in silence. No words were necessary and Lyssa felt better than she had in days.


	6. The truth behind it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “They were watching you, always watching, always from the outside, the elf, the murderer, the Mark, the Herald, the Chosen, the Inquisitor. Always the symbol, never the person, wrapped in too much gold and green. The necessary distance. An empty scream, unheard.”

“Inquisitor?”

Cullen’s voice slowly made its way into Lyssa’s consciousness and she looked up from the war table, coming out of her thoughts somewhat confused.

“Yes?” she asked tentatively.

“What do you say?”

She blinked. “To what?”

The shuffling of feet across the floor and the looks her advisors exchanged told her that this was not what she should have said. Cullen took a deep breath, seemingly calming himself, Leliana crossed her arms and Josephine cleared her throat. Her face was more concerned than annoyed as she said, “To what we’ve been discussing the last few minutes?”

Cullen mumbled, “More like the last half hour," but when Josephine gave him a scathing look, he shrank into himself.

Lyssa looked from one to the other, desperately trying to remember what they had been talking about and failing.

“I...” she started and only realized she had made a step backwards when Leliana suddenly looked alarmed. For a second she tried to force herself to focus, to stay alert and, even more importantly, _stay_ but when she saw Josie’s list of topics and the huge map full of little figurines and notes and marks, she just couldn’t. Suddenly, it was all just too much.

“I’m sorry. Whatever you think best. I, uhm… need to go. I’m sorry.”

And with that, she fled the room. Too late did she realize that she’d have to cross the main hall with all the dignitaries and nobles trying to get a word with her, trying to win her favor or making her bless them.

“Inquisitor!” - “Mylady Inquisitor, a word?” - “It’s her!” - “Herald, would you mind…”

The words and voices crashed over her like a wave and for a long horrible moment, the world seemed to consist only of human faces bearing down on her, wearing false smiles and pleas between walls that were too thick and too close. She forced herself to breathe and smile as she made her way through the many, too many people around her, even as her throat threatened to close, making it hard to get enough air to breathe. 

“Excuse me," she murmured again and again, forcing herself through the various people towards the main doors. By the time she reached them, she was nearly running.

“Ember, are you alright?" she heard Varric when she hurried past him but she didn’t stop.

The open sky in the courtyard helped for a few seconds until the first voices reached her again, some greetings from scouts or soldiers, some from diplomats who had actually followed her outside and Lyssa decided that stopping wasn’t an option. More “Excuse me”, more forced smiles and breathing, more hurrying along, towards the battlements. But everywhere she went, someone was already there. Lyssa walked every battlement, every courtyard, visited the garden and tried in vain to avoid the priests there but instead of the solace she had hoped for, the stones and the people seemed to close in on her with every step. Her throat started to close and her fingernails had dug so deep into her palm she had drawn blood. She knew she couldn’t leave the keep without raising the alarm and at one point she just froze, close to a panic. She forced her eyes towards the open sky, towards the few tree tops softly swaying in the wind but even now, someone was coming towards her. Another voice, another person, another question or prayer or plea or idle talk that held no meaning. _No no no_ … no more. Where could she be alone? Her eyes widened as the obvious answer came to her. How could she have forgotten the one place where nobody would disturb her? Quickly, she stole through the kitchen and the main hall to the only place she knew she’d be alone: her room. Faster and faster, her feet bore her up the stairs, away from the many people in this strange keep.

The relief when she slammed the door behind her only remained for a few seconds, though. As she walked through the huge room with its banners and ornaments, the luxuries and drapes, the huge bed, she couldn’t see herself even remotely within it. This was a stranger’s room, some other person able to bear the burden and dignity of Inquisitor, not she, the elf, the Keeper, the healer. With a strangled cry, she took a vase and smashed it against the wall, then she ran out onto the balcony, her clammy hands grabbing the balustrade, her breathing heavy and labored. With only the cold, the sky above her and the deadly depths beneath her, she was at least no longer confined. For several minutes she just stared out into the mountains until she felt like breathing took an effort, then she sank down onto the cold floor, her back to the balustrade.

 

“Faces and words and stone and cold pressing down, making it hard to forget, making it hard to remember who she is and how to breathe…” The whispered words took shape and when Lyssa looked up from where she had sunk to the ground, Cole sat before her, his face hidden beneath the big hat. “Always the one not belonging, always apart, rootless and uprooted. Nothing here that is truly mine, having left everything and everyone behind. Red sails and white fur. Do they miss me at all? Beloved faces, blurred from memory, taken away by sickness, blade, sickness. All alone. Then blond locks and black hair. They were the only ones I belonged to and they left. More than two years and still there are blood drops shining in the fire, the smell of burning grass and sweat… My fault.”

“Stop it," Lyssa whispered, not bothering to wipe the tears from her face. The few words were enough to take her back to that moment that had changed everything. Even now she could smell the fire in the air, hear the sounds of fighting. Two years had dulled the pain, softened the grief but it would never be gone completely. Today, she missed Nelos terribly. He would have found some easy words to lighten everything, some place to find peace. But he wasn’t here, never would be again.

Cole looked up, cocking his head.

“I can take it away," he offered but she shook her head.

“No. It is my last memory of him,” she murmured as another tear found her way over her cheek. She wasn’t quite sure whether the tears were for the dead or herself, but in the end it didn’t matter. 

“But it hurts you!” Cole seemed shocked, but even more than that, he seemed curious.

“Yes.”

“I don’t understand.”

Lyssa took a deep breath, smiling and crying at the same time, a small sob unwontedly escaping her. “I don’t understand it myself, not really. But I need this memory. Even if I failed, I tried. I need to remember the trying. And that I was there when he died.”

For a long time, Cole didn’t say anything, just looked at her, flickering in and out of perception like he did, holding his crouching position for far longer than a normal person would have been able to. There was no judgment at all in him, just a soothing presence so faint as to not be obtrusive. Just having him here made Lyssa breathe easier and suddenly, she found herself talking. “He was the best person I ever knew. There was nothing false within him even if he was mischievous sometimes…” She smiled sadly, looking up into the cold sky. “Everything he did, he did with every fibre of his being. Courageous, never holding a grudge, passionate and fiercely protective of those close to him, he loved life and embraced every aspect like there was no tomorrow. Until there  _was_  no tomorrow. And I...”

“You are lost," Cole added softly when she didn’t continue and Lyssa nodded.

“After he died - I was alone. My whole family gone. I was Deshanna’s First but that also set me apart. And just when I thought I found my place again, I was sent to the Conclave and the world broke. Again. And then…”

“They were watching you, always watching, always from the outside, the elf, the murderer, the Mark, the Herald, the Chosen, the Inquisitor. Always the symbol, never the person, wrapped in too much gold and green. The necessary distance. An empty scream, unheard.”

Lyssa wasn’t sure if Cole had said the words out aloud but they hit home, echoing in the ache within her. He formed the words around the feelings of loneliness and insecurity that ate at her, the feeling of not being a _someone_ to most of the people here. And while in the beginning, she had upheld the distance to them all herself, now she craved some sort of closer connection more than anything. It had always been difficult for her to make friends. How would she be able to do it from the pedestal she was always placed upon?

“But there are new bonds," Cole continued wonderingly, “glittering and thin, but there, made of respect and admiration and fear and…”

“Only because of the mark," Lyssa interrupted him, closing her fingers above the green shimmer in her palm, but Cole shook his head.

“It started that way but there is more now. Connecting to courage and honesty and hope.”

“I’m not sure if there is enough of me here to actually connect to," Lyssa whispered, her voice small. This life was so different from the one she had led before that she still wasn’t sure how to fit into it.

“Then you should get more of you here," Cole answered and flickered out of her perception. She sighed tiredly and let her face sink into her hands, her tears dried on her cheeks. A part of her wondered when she had started to converse so easily with the spirit. For a long time she sat there, staring out into the mountains, until the skies filled with the first stars and she felt like every bit of warmth of her body had seeped into the cold stones of the balcony. When she finally got up and crawled beneath the blanket on her bed, she was cold to the bone but strangely peaceful.

  
Cole’s words had struck a cord in her. Too long had she held on to trying to be invisible. It was time she stopped pretending she could go home soon and accepted that this was her new home for the unforeseeable future. So she would make it home. She had already formed tentative friendships, had found people she treasured and found a connection with. She delighted in flirting with Dorian who had managed more than anyone else to lure her out of her own shell. He was probably the most unlikely friend she had ever had but his exaggerated demeanor was just a mask for the warm, caring person beneath that she had come to treasure. After their bumpy start, Cassandra had shown her nothing but respect and had become someone she relied on. Varric never failed to make her smile. And then there was Solas. A warm, nervous tingle spread through her at the thought and she smiled slightly. She couldn’t place the moment when she had fallen in love with him. But after they had reached Skyhold, she had stopped trying to deny it to herself even though she was far from sure about the extent of his feelings for her. But maybe, just maybe, this would change if she could find it in herself to be more at peace here. To be more herself here. It was time to live again.


	7. More of her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have a favour to ask.”
> 
> “Anything, Inquisitor.”

Dawn was already on the horizon, a soft pink creeping over the snow-covered mountaintops when Lyssa finally fell asleep, her head full of thoughts, her heart heavy with emotions. When she woke barely two hours later, she still felt exhausted and her whole body was heavy as she dragged herself towards the small bathroom, throwing cold water into her face. This day would be a long one. She had barely gotten dressed when she heard a knock at the door. With a sigh, she lay the brush aside she had just picked up, and went to answer. It seemed today would start early indeed.

 

But the person standing before her was not the messenger she had expected, bearing a summon from her advisors. Her eyes widened slightly as she looked up at Solas, her sleep-deprived brain trying in vain to come up with something more intelligent than a surprised “Solas?”.

He inclined his head and gave her a slight smile. “You didn’t come last night. I was worried.”

Lyssa took a breath, feeling both guilty and incredibly touched. Their meetings had become a treasured habit after their talk at the cliff, sharing a few moments each night, just talking about the day or sometimes even just being in each other’s company. It was something they had kept up even when they had arrived at Skyhold a few weeks ago and had become one of the few things where she did not feel like she had to pretend to be someone else, something _more_ than she actually was. He told her small stories about the things, people and emotions he encountered in the Fade and she shared her own experiences or asked for his opinion on this and that. They talked about books and people they encountered, sharing knowledge and assessments. She had come to value his input since it was never given hastily or without thought. Last night though she had completely forgotten about their meeting, so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she didn’t even let him know she wasn’t coming. But he hadn’t forgotten and even came to ask after her. A warm tingle spread through her body that was by now familiar in his presence.

 

Other than with Nelos she couldn't remember a certain moment when she had realized that she felt more for Solas than friendship. It had grown in situations like this when he had shown her concern and tenderness and warmth. He had become someone she could rely on and she treasured his presence that was never imposing, his intelligence and their mutual delight in gathering and sharing knowledge. Then there were the moments when she caught him looking at her, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth that always had a touch of wonder in it, the moments when a certain twinkle in his eyes teased her and his delight when he managed to make her blush. She could read him well enough to see he felt something for her too but so far he had always closed up as soon as the atmosphere became too intimate. She hadn’t pushed, unsure whether she over-interpreted his feelings.

Before she could answer him, Solas added, “And when you didn’t show up for breakfast, I wanted to make sure you are alright.“

She smiled gratefully and his gaze fell nearly involuntarily to her lips before it came back to her eyes.

"I am," she said. "Thank you. I apologize for not showing up yesterday. I should have sent word."

He looked at her still disheveled hair and noted the tiredness around her eyes before he inclined his head to her. "I disturbed you. Please forgive my intrusion,” he said formally. Lyssa more sensed than saw the slight shift in his mood as he turned to leave. For a second she was confused before she realized that he drew the wrong conclusion about her not showing up last night and this morning. She tilted her head. Was he jealous?

"So, who else didn't show up this morning?" she asked and he turned again, his gaze both guilty and surprised, confirming her suspicion. As he saw her amused smile, relief spread over his face.

"Dorian," he confessed and Lyssa chuckled, shaking her head. Her and Dorian's flirting was infamous and raised more than a few eyebrows but she had thought that the purely playful nature of these flirts was known at least in their small inner circle of friends and comrades. It seemed she was wrong. Dorian would be so pleased.

Lyssa opened the door wide, following an instinct.

“Would you care to come in? I have something to ask you.”

Solas cocked his head, a curious expression in his eyes and, after just the slightest hint of hesitation, nodded. He followed her up the stairs and at her invitation sat down on the couch. His eyes quickly scanned the room before returning to her and Lyssa realized it was the first time he was in here. She didn't need to follow his gaze to know there was not much to be found of her in here. The conversation with Cole yesterday was still fresh in her mind and even if the feelings that had lead to it hadn't subsided completely, she was determined to make a conscious effort to change some things.

With a small smile she sat across him on the couch, only to get up again, nervously wringing her hands, not really knowing where to start. She still felt emotionally raw and despite her trust in Solas it was difficult to talk about this. He waited patiently for a few moments, watching her pace and searching for words before he asked: “Lyssa? Are you really alright?”

She turned to him, instinctively searching his face for clues about the nature of the question and found genuine concern, for once not mostly hidden behind calmness and professionalism. She smiled, even if it was only half-hearted. “I am now. Mostly.”

He stood up and came over to her, his brow furrowed. “What happened?”

“So you didn’t hear about… my outburst yesterday?”

Solas shook his head. “I was researching the oculara until late. What outburst?”

She looked down at her hands. “I just left the advisors at the wartable, storming about the keep for a while before locking myself in here. Rather silly, really.”

There was no judgement in Solas' face as he asked: “Why?”

“I… It was a bit like that night at the cliff, just worse," she confessed. “Too many eyes, voices, walls. I needed… space when there was none to be had. When there never will be much to be had anymore. Ever since they have made me Inquisitor, the decisions bear more weight and they are on my shoulders alone. And they are so very different from what I have been trained to do. A Keeper also bears responsibility for the clan but there is nothing like this… dance of politics and intrigue. And my advisors don’t seem to understand how absurd some of the things they ask me to do are. It made me feel very alone. But Cole came and talked to me.” A smile flickered over her face. “He helped.”

“He didn’t…” Solas started in a strained voice but Lyssa quickly shook her head.

“No, no, don’t worry. He didn’t take anything away. He just talked to me. Her reminded me that I am not alone here.” She looked up and added with a nervous flutter of her heart, “Not anymore.” Solas’ gaze had an intensity that made her knees weak. For a long while they just stood there, looking at each other. 

It was her who broke the silence, her heart in her throat.

“I have a favour to ask.”

“Anything, Inquisitor.”

Nearly at the same time as he switched back to formality, he took a step backwards. A pang of disappointment flashed through her as he increased the distance between them as he was prone to do. She took a deep breath, going on despite the carefully kept distance.

“Would you teach me how to paint?”

This time she had really managed to surprise him, she could see it. He blinked. “How to… paint?”

Lyssa nodded. “I know you can do it. I’ve seen the colours you ordered, the assortment of brushes in your study and the outlines you already finished and I recognize skill when I see it. Would you?”

A strange mix of fondness and sadness flickered across his face as if he was remembering something beautiful but long gone, then he smiled at her. “May I ask why?”

“Well…" Lyssa went back to the couch and sat down. “It is something that Cole said yesterday. About me having to bring more of myself into… this.” She gestured at the room but implying more than just it. “And while there are things from home I can add to make at least this room feel more familiar, many are just... Unattainable. Bringing them here through a painting seemed like a good idea.”

Solas sat down across her and nodded. “I understand. It is a good idea.”

“So you’ll teach me?"

He nodded and smiled, his head tilted ever so slightly in the way he showed only her. “Thank you,” Lyssa smiled back and her shoulders slumped down with relief and the tiredness she still felt in her bones. She leaned back, closing her eyes for just a moment with a sigh before she pulled her feet onto the couch, thankful for his company and not really ready to let him leave so soon again. As long as Leliana didn’t send a messenger she would indulge herself by avoiding to put on the Inquisitor’s responsibilities again for a little while longer. “I am sorry I missed our meeting yesterday. Will you stay a moment longer if you have time?" she asked and when he smiled at her this time, she suspected he knew exactly why she had asked.

“You continue to surprise me," he said, with just a hint of teasing and she answered with a smile of her own. “Alright, let us talk… preferably somewhere more interesting than this.”

And with that, he stood up, offering her his hand to help her up. Curious, Lyssa put her hand in his and followed him.


	8. Fade-touched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You promised you wouldn’t intrude in my dreams uninvited,” she said not without tension and he nodding slightly.  
> “Ah. But this is not your dream,” he smiled.

Solas carefully climbed down the stairs, the walls of the hall clammy, walking deeper and deeper into the depths of the dungeon. Nobody else was to be seen and Lyssa got more curious with every step they took. Finally, he led her into a big empty cell, straw laying on one side, an empty bowl to the other.

“I took care of you while you slept,” he said looking at the floor as if lost in memory. “I had run every test I could imagine, searched the Fade, yet found nothing. You weren’t going to survive. How could you? A mortal, thrown physically into the Fade. By all logic you should have died.” He raised his eyes from the floor, looking at her with a smile in the corner of his mouth. “But you refused to. You lay there, shivering as if with fever and fought for your life. Cassandra threatened to have me executed if I didn’t produce results but even when I had lost all hope, prepared to flee… you kept going.” He shook his head a little as if he still had difficulties believing what had happened and Lyssa smiled.

“I remember you taking care of me,” she answered, her eyes unfocused as she remembered that moment that still seemed surreal. “I woke up and you held my hand.” She looked down at her hand, tilting her head slightly as she tried to collect the details of that short moment when she had spoken to him. “I felt your magic as you worked on the mark and I asked what had happened. I was so tired, so confused. And you… you just looked at me.”

Solas had become still. “I didn’t think you’d remember that,” he eventually said quietly and Lyssa smiled warmly.

“How could I forget? You were kind and warm and held my hand as you said that there was an accident and that you would take care of me. There was no lie in your face that moment and I remember touching your face because I wasn’t sure whether you were real. After what had happened, you could just as easily have been just one more spirit.”

A few moments of silence followed in which they looked at each other. “But you were real. And you kept your promise. You took care of me,” Lyssa added quietly and finally, he smiled, albeit a bit sadly. “Someone had to,” Solas said and his eyes narrowed slightly. “At the time I wasn’t sure if it was a kindness. They were sure you were responsible for the Divine’s death, calling for your blood. As soon as you started to stir, to come out of unconsciousness they cuffed you. I didn’t know whether saving you would just offer a worse death. I left you surrounded by guards with bared blades… but it felt wrong.”

Lyssa’s eyes widened slightly at the words but as she thought about what he had just said, something else caught her attention. Solas turned to walk out of the prison again and she followed him. When they were in the open again, the sky a brilliant blue, she caught his arm, turning him towards her. “‘They’ were sure?” she asked, looking up at him. “You didn’t think it was my fault?”

His face softened and he shook his head. “No. I was sure you were there but also that you weren’t responsible.”

Lyssa took a careful step closer as he looked at her with an expression that made her heart race. For the first time since they had started to spend more time with each other he did not put that careful distance between them that he was so prone to uphold. “From the moment I saw you, you defied everything that I thought to be true,” Solas mused, not taking his eyes from her. “You fought and you survived, against all odds. You sealed the rift with a mere gesture where everything else had failed. You offered apologies where others offended, you reached out where others drew back.” There was wonder in his eyes as they wandered over her face, as if to take in every detail and Lyssa could feel her cheeks warming under the intensity of his gaze. He smiled as he saw her blush. “You change everything,” he murmured, his hand reaching towards her, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

Lyssa could feel her heart beating hard as she saw the feelings in his eyes, for once not hidden behind his usual mask of professionalism and perpetual calmness. And still, there seemed to be a battle inside of him. It was not that she couldn’t understand it. No matter how close they had become, there always was something that kept her apart from everyone else. Maybe it wasn’t him that put on the mask but her - the mask of the Herald, the Inquisitor, the leader. Maybe it was time to take it off.

Just as he started to pull away, the moment of connection all but gone, she reached for him, ignoring the nervousness that threatened to paralyze her. Her hand stopped him from turning away, a soft touch on his cheek and he paused, just long enough that she could raise herself up and kissed him. She could feel him still beneath her touch as her lips caressed his, soft and warm. It was an offer, a promise, and after a long, tender moment she pulled back. Solas looked at her with wide eyes, still not moving. But when she gave him a tentative smile, her hand still on his cheek, it was as if the last of his self-restraint just fell away. With a nearly soundless sigh he pulled her into his embrace and kissed her with a passion that kindled a flame inside her she had nearly forgotten was there. His arms held her close to him and when his lips opened beneath hers, she responded in kind. All the tension she had felt between them seemed to unload itself in the kiss and she lost herself in his touch, his lips and tongue and breath. She could feel him smile as she sighed approvingly and for a second, they parted, both breathing faster. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks flushed and when she returned his smile with open happiness, the wonder was back in his eyes. She let her fingertips wander over the skin on his neck and a shiver ran over him as she tilted her head invitingly. With a little groan, he pulled her back to him, pressing his lips on hers with an intensity and urgency that made Lyssa’s whole body tingle. But just as she was about to forget everything beyond this moment, she could feel him draw back. With a little sound of protest, she pulled him closer, unwilling to break the kiss, to lose this feeling, but his hands wandered from her sides to her arms, holding her as he pulled back. “Wait,” he whispered, laying his forehead against hers. “We shouldn’t.”

She could still feel his breath hot on her face and for a second, neither of them moved. Lyssa didn’t know what exactly it was that she felt - the heat inside her from the kiss, from his touches far from gone but yet, there was apprehension as Solas took a careful step back, shaking his head. She could see that he was far from unaffected as he looked at her but there was also something close to fear in his features as he let go of her hands.

“What is it?” she asked, instinctively reaching for him again and for a moment he allowed it, even seemed to cherish the feeling of her fingers interlacing with his, then he closed his eyes and shook his head, a cool determination coming on his face. This time, it was Lyssa who pulled back, a sinking feeling of despair rising inside her. Had she just destroyed the connection they had built?

“You regret it,” she stated and his eyes snapped to hers, seeing the pain in them. Solas shook his head.

“No,” he said, then, after the slightest hesitation, “but…”

“Ah,” Lyssa interrupted, her voice sad. “If you didn’t regret it, there would be no ‘but’. Not even here.”

His eyebrows went up at that and she gave him a small smile. “You thought I hadn’t realized?” She looked around, the open view from her balcony more clear than she had ever seen it before, the snow a glimmering white on the mountains, the sky of a blue that was so warm and wide it felt unreal. It was peaceful and quiet and the sunshine felt warmer on her skin than was usual in this time of the year. The only thing that felt as solid and real as always was Skyhold, the walls rough beneath her touch. When she looked back at Solas, his eyes had softened. “You promised you wouldn’t intrude in my dreams uninvited,” she said not without tension and he nodding slightly.

“Ah. But this is not your dream,” he smiled and Lyssa’s eyes widened, her lips forming a silent ‘oh’. “You fell asleep. But you seemed in need for companionship,” he added quietly, “so I followed and directed you here.” Even as she was looking around again, taking in the details of their surroundings with new eyes, Solas took a step towards her. “Lyssa, this isn’t regret, I promise. But -“

Again, she interrupted him, this time by laying a finger on his lips. Now that she knew she was in his dream, she felt strangely like an intruder. “Not here,” she said and -

\- sat up.

They were still in her room. She lay on her couch, Solas sitting next to her, looking at her with a calmness that was close to unnerving. All of a sudden, the tiredness that was a result of that grief-filled, too short night before rushed back and Lyssa rubbed her hands over her face, sighing deeply before she looked back at him. He was so close that she thought she could feel the ghost of a touch still where he had held her in the dream. She felt vulnerable in the silence that stretched between them but still, she waited for him to talk, to explain. When no words came, she tilted her head slightly, reading the conflict in his face as she inched closer. His eyes seemed transfixed by hers as one of her hands wandered into his neck and she kissed him again. The heat and passion of the kisses in the Fade was still tangible but she kept it soft, her lips pressing onto his with a caressing and insistent warmth. With barely any hesitation, he kissed her back. It was not the same kiss, not one that instantly set her whole body aflame with desire but its warmth and tenderness was no less wonderful.

“So it’s not just a Fade-thing,” Lyssa murmured after she pulled back. Solas looked at her with utter amazement on his face, obviously at a loss for words for a few more moments.

“No, it’s not,” he confessed after taking a deep breath. “But… it’s been a long time. And things have always been easier for me in the Fade.”

Lyssa could see that there was more he didn’t say and just waited. A shadow came on Solas’ face as he touched hers, a sadness and longing in his eyes she hadn’t expected. “I’m not sure this is the best idea. It could lead to... trouble.”

“It could also lead to something else entirely,” Lyssa answered and smiled mischievously. Solas’ eyes flashed with humor and a promise that woke an excited tingle in her belly as he laughed. “You are right, of course. But -” he interrupted himself, shaking his head, his smile all but gone. “No. Not but. Still, there are considerations. I need time to think. Please. Can you give me time?”

She looked at him for a long time, then she nodded, looking down at her hands she had clasped in her lap. “Of course. I apologize. I shouldn’t have... assumed.”

As his long, cool fingers touched her hand carefully, his thumb running over her palm and sending a shiver over her body, she looked up again. “Don’t apologize,” he said quietly with a shake of his head and his eyes burned into hers with intensity. “Not for this.”

Lyssa took a breath, reading the urgency, the emotions in his face and nodded. “Alright,” she murmured and Solas smiled before he stood up, pulling her with him.

“Will I see you tonight?” Lyssa asked and he inclined his head to her. “Of course. I’ll be here. With brushes and paint. But for now you should try and find some rest.”

Lyssa gave a short, humourless laugh. “Tell that to my advisors,” she said and shook her head. To her surprise, he just raised an eyebrow and answered calmly, “I will. Don’t worry about them.”

“Thank you,” she breathed, relief flooding her at the thought of having the day all to herself. He smiled and turned to leave. At the stairs he paused and looked back at her. “I am not often thrown by things that happen in dreams. But I guess it is as I said: you change everything.” His voice was dark with emotion and as she looked at him, it was as if she could feel the connection between them on a physical level, a taut band that held him here, with her. But then he turned and walked away and she was alone with a swirl of emotions inside her, a strange mix of hope and sadness, of unfulfilled desire and nervousness.


	9. Sparks in the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Make him? Make him do what? Bed me?”
> 
> “Yes!”, Dorian exclaimed.

“I’m telling you, it is nothing!” Dorian exclaimed even though his normally so carefully composed face was distorted with pain. Lyssa shook her head, gesturing at his leg and the trousers that were widely stained with blood, the cloth dark and wet, clinging to his skin.

“Dorian, your whole leg is full of blood and you cannot stand up, it is not nothing. Now stop being a baby and take off your trousers so I can reach that wound!”

“No,” he flat-out refused and Lyssa threw her hands in the air with an exasperated sound. She was at the end of both her wits and tether. She had dealt with many difficult patients in her time but nobody had just flat out refused to allow her to dress a simple wound. She looked at Dorian with thinly veiled irritation in her eyes.

“Why won’t you let me help you?” she asked and he grabbed another bandage to put on top the one he already had wrapped around his leg and which was completely bled through.

“I don’t need your help," he said stubbornly. When Solas came over to stand next to Lyssa after having tended to Blackwall’s wounds, Dorian gave him a defiant look, continuing to wrap his leg.

“Difficult patient?" Solas asked with a raised eyebrow, ignoring Dorian’s scoff at his words.

“The worst," Lyssa mumbled, “what about yours?”

“Sleeping it off," he answered and nodded towards the tent where Blackwall had retired to. The Warden had been hit by a powerful shield bash and after the way he had crashed into a tree Lyssa suspected he would have to deal with headaches for another few days. They had unexpectedly run into a Venatori camp where a rather powerful mage and his mercenaries had managed to surprise them. They had kept the upper hand but it had been a close call and none of them had been spared several injuries. Maybe they should just stay here for another day or two instead of going on to the main camp.

Dorian had had it worst, taking a blow to the leg which could have just as easily cost him his leg or even life had the warrior aimed a tiny bit more left. But even so - if he wouldn’t let her treat and properly bandage it, chances were he wouldn’t be able to use the leg for quite a while... or worse. She decided to give it another try.

“Dorian, come on, this isn’t working as you must see?" she gestured at the bandage he pressed against the cut in his upper thigh. “Please let me help you?”

“Alright," Dorian finally conceded after watching the blood seep through the new bandages, raising his chin. He was decidedly green around the nose and the pain was still very palpable on his face. “But turn around while I undress.”

Lyssa blinked. “That’s it? You don’t want me to -”

“Yes, yes, now turn around.” There was a hint of impatience in his voice.

With a shake of her head, Lyssa turned her back to Dorian. The over-the-top modesty of the humans in her company never ceased to amaze her. They were living so closely together, sharing a camp, hearing each other snore or dream (or doing other things) in their tents and yet, when it came to naked skin, most went to ridiculous amounts of trouble just to make sure nobody saw too much. It was one of the things she had quickly gotten over when she had started to live with the Dalish.

“Seriously, Dorian," she said over her shoulder, “it’s not like you’re the first man I’ve seen naked or as if I wanted to get into your pants.”

The sounds of pain he made as he tried to pull the trousers off were nearly unbearable to her and she looked at Solas pleadingly - Dorian hadn’t objected to him, so she thought it was a safe bet to ask him to help Dorian. And indeed, no protest came as the elf gave him a hand.

“Really. I do remember quite vividly how you insisted on me taking them off for the last half hour," came a dry reply from Dorian, only interrupted by a sharp intake of breath.

“Alright, I do. But not in _that_ way," she said, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “It kind of would be the worst way to try it, honestly," she added somewhat drily. For a second, nobody said anything, then Dorian remarked with an undertone that was full of mischief: “One cannot help but wonder how you would try to get into my pants _that_ way.”

“You’ll see when it comes to it," Lyssa said absent-mindedly and only realized what she had said when Solas casually asked, “Will he now?”

Lyssa was horrified, blushing deeply. She could practically hear him raise his eyebrow but since she couldn’t see him, she had no idea what his actual feelings were. Since they had kissed a bit more than two weeks ago and he had asked her for patience, they had gone back to the way their friendship had been before, but there was more warmth in their encounters and a growing intimacy in their talks. There were rare touches that were full of promises, glances and smiles that made her tingle all over - but they hadn’t kissed anymore. There had been moments when she thought it might come to it but every time he had pulled away, putting a careful distance between them.

She still didn’t quite know what to make of the whole situation. She knew he had feelings for her but she also saw how pointedly he kept his distance at the moment. And if he thought she was interested in someone else, he might use this as a reason to shut himself away completely. Hastily, she tried to smooth the comment over. “That - that’s not what I meant! I would never try to - not with you, Dorian!”

“Really," Dorian nearly scoffed, amusement in his voice, “I feel like I should be offended now.”

Solas agreed, “You totally should.”

Lyssa groaned and could just barely keep herself from turning around. She felt strangely cut off without being able to see their faces to discern their actual mood. “No! I didn’t - I mean, it’s not that you aren’t… Oh creators, I’m not going to get out of this, am I?”

She buried her burning face in her hands while the men behind her laughed in a rare show of camaraderie.

“You really aren’t," Dorian called, obviously delighted. “And you can turn around now.”

“Finally," she murmured, pointedly ignoring them both as she tended to Dorian’s wound. But when she met Solas’ eyes, there was a sparkle in them and a smile playing in the corner of his mouth. He ever so slightly nodded at her and left them as she finished dressing the wound. Dorian grinned from ear to ear as he saw Lyssa blushing but she ignored him.

When she helped Dorian into his tent afterwards before giving him the potion that would both make him sleep and keep the pain at bay, her friend gave her a look that was more serious than she anticipated.

“You really should, though," he said. She looked at him questioningly and he added, “Try to get into Solas’ pants _that_ way.”

Lyssa felt her ears turn red again and didn’t answer immediately. Dorian laughed. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it! Every imbecile can see you have feelings for him. And by now I’m nearly absolutely certain he has feelings for you as well. I mean, you spend nearly every evening with each other anyway, why not take it that bit further? Plus, you could both use it to unwind.”

Lyssa looked at him and smiled slightly when she saw that there was worry behind his words. “There are other ways to unwind, you know,” she said meaningful. Dorian made a dismissive gesture.

“But none that much fun! Ouch.” He drew in a sharp breath as he lay down on his bedroll. Lyssa carefully arranged the blanket beneath his leg a bit more comfortably before she answered softly: “It’s out of my hands, Dorian.”

He immediately pushed himself up again, all ears. “What! Why? What did you do?”

“I kissed him," she said with a small smile and shrugged, not looking at him. “And he kissed me back. But afterwards he said he needed time to think.”

Dorian groaned and nearly comically put his hand to his forehead. “The gall! That is ridiculous. Make him.”

Lyssa raised an eyebrow, looking up at him. “Make him? Make him do what? Bed me?”

“Yes!" he exclaimed but when he met her eyes, he shook his head and immediately added: “No. No, you’re right, that could go horribly wrong and also paint a false picture of you and your Inquisition. There must be another way. I’ll think of one - as soon as I can think again.”

This time, his groan was lined with pain and Lyssa gave him the cup with the potion. “Here. That’ll help.”

“Thank you," he said and downed the cup with one swig, telling Lyssa just in how much pain he was. Then he sank back onto his bedroll. “But I promise. I’ll think of something.” His words were already slurred and Lyssa smiled as he closed his eyes.

“Thank you, my friend," she whispered even though she knew he could no longer hear her, then she left his tent to let him sleep.

 

When she came outside, she was surprised to see Solas still sitting at the fire. She had expected him to retire as well since she had taken first watch but it seemed like he had been content with taking off his armor, returning to the fire to keep her company. Night had fallen while they had erected the tents and then tended to Blackwall’s and Dorian’s wounds. For a moment she watched him, transfixed by the way the warm shine of the flames played over his face and bare arms, sharpening the shadows and easing the lines that formed his features. Where he so often seemed untouchable with a nearly regal air about him, there was something vulnerable and soft in him as he looked into the flames. His eyes were dark against the red and orange flicker of fire, his face calm and relaxed. Her heart clenched in a sudden surge of warmth and desire as she looked at him and for a moment she was surprised by her own strong reaction, letting out a breath. Maybe Dorian was right - it had been too long since she had shared a bed with someone. Since she had felt the urge to do so. The last few weeks had just heightened the awareness of the tension between them and the promise of passion, of more than their careful gestures and heady looks too often tangible between them.

With silent steps she walked over to him and he looked up, offering her a smile as he passed her a plate with bread, cheese and some sliced vegetables from their supply. “Oh, thank you,” Lyssa sighed as she sat down next to him, realizing how hungry she was. For a moment they just ate in comfortable silence, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the wind in the trees. Despite the constant awareness of his presence next to her, she quickly fell into the easiness and habit of a slow, quiet evening at the fire. There was something so familiar about this that she would’ve been hard pressed not to find calmness in the way they shared a meal at a fire after a long hard day of travel, despite the exhaustion the day had brought with it.

When she was finished, she put the plate away, reaching towards the warm flames with a tired sigh and started taking off her leather jerkin, shrugging out of the heavy armor piece. She had already removed her gloves, shawl and the pauldrons before taking care of Dorian and put the jerkin next to them, knowing she would have to put them on again as soon as she was alone and the watch would truly begin but for now she just enjoyed the feeling of unhindered movement in her chemise that fell loosely around her. She stretched but stopped abruptly with a strained sound as she noticed yet another painful bruise on her side where one of the Venatori’s spells had hit her. All in all she had been lucky and apart from a painful cut on one of her lower arms, a split lip and a laceration on her cheek where she had taken a blow to the face, the only injuries she had received were bruises.

“Everything alright? Do you need help?” Solas asked at her sharp intake of breath and she shook her head, running a hand over the black-blue spot beneath the shirt, the bluish glow of healing magic cool on her skin, easing the pain immediately. She felt exhausted and sore all over, her muscles stiff and tired but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. “No, thank you. Just a bit sore from the fight. What about you?”

She looked over to him but he seemed as unperturbed as ever, calm and composed as if they hadn’t just barely survived a fight a few hours ago. “How is your arm?” she added and he looked at where he had bandaged the wound that a poorly aimed arrow had left, flexing the muscles carefully.

“Nothing that I’ll still feel in a few days. Don’t worry.”

“Good,” she smiled and let her head sink forward, bringing one hand to her neck to massage the tense muscles with a tired sigh.

“Here. Let me,” Solas said, moving closer. Lyssa stopped and looked at him over her shoulder in surprise. He was as calm as always but when he smiled slightly, her heart stumbled nervously. He met her gaze levelly, his head slightly tilted as he waited until she nodded. Then he settled down behind her, close enough for her to feel the warmth from his body but not close enough to touch. Instinctively, Lyssa sat up a bit more upright, biting her lip as the butterflies in her stomach went wild when he brought his hands to her shoulders. His cool fingers moved skillfully over the hard knots, kneading and massaging and for a few minutes, she just enjoyed the feeling of relaxation that slowly spread through her as the cramped muscles started to loosen, even though the intimacy of his touch kept the surprised nervousness inside her alive. Despite the closeness that had grown between them touches were few and treasured. Thus, she didn’t quite know what to make of the situation. Feeling him so close to her made her heart beat faster. The careful distance he was so prone to put between them suddenly seemed gone and Lyssa found herself wondering, _hoping_ if he had finally decided that whatever reason he told himself was more important than the obvious mutual affection between them wasn’t that important after all. But Solas didn’t say anything, just quietly and efficiently worked on loosening the tension in her muscles and after a few seconds, she decided to just enjoy the moment, closing her eyes with a content sigh as her body relaxed and she lost herself to his touch. It was only when she felt his chest against her back that she realized she had melted back into his embrace without even meaning to. Her eyes opened again as she felt the hands on her shoulders pause and for a second she was unsure whether she should move away again. But then he continued his ministrations, seemingly unaware of the little hitch in her breath as he slightly adjusted his seat so she could lean back into him more comfortably.

 

An approving sigh came from her lips as his touches got softer, eliciting goosebumps as his fingertips trailed slowly along the exposed skin beneath her collar and up her neck. Her breath caught in her throat as the caress found the spot beneath her ear, wandering along the line of her hair, causing a shiver to run over her body. She did not dare say anything for fear of disturbing the moment, which might just lead to her losing this precious closeness and that alluring tingle his touch elicited. The only sound beyond the crackling of fire and the night was her breaths, hot and quick. The tension between them was tangible, and warmth seemed to spread from where he touched her through her whole body. She tilted her head invitingly and felt him taking a deep breath, his heart beating hard where his chest was pressed against her back. The whirlwind of nervousness and excitement deep within her got stronger, curling tightly in her belly as she realized he was just as affected by their closeness as she was. For a second she could feel his breath ghost over her, hinting at a kiss that never came, his mouth just a hairsbreadth above her skin. His hands stilled again on her shoulders where her shirt had slipped down enough to reveal most of them, his touch light upon her skin.

“Ah, vhenan,” his voice was barely a whisper against her ear, “you test me.” Another deep breath, then he pulled the seams of her shirt back over her shoulders, covering the exposed skin. Lyssa let out a shuddering breath herself, her body aflame with the need for more - more closeness, more touches and when he so carefully retreated she keenly felt the cold against her back where he no longer shielded her with his body. For a few moments she didn’t move, trying to collect herself, her heart beating nearly painfully hard.

“I should leave you alone,” Solas murmured and started to stand up. Lyssa turned to watch and for a second their eyes met. The way his gaze burned into hers, pure longing in them, did nothing to ease the turmoil inside her. Before he could turn to leave, she stood as well and Solas paused, watching her carefully, his mask of calmness not yet in place again. She made no move towards him, just stood and looked at him. There was a tremble to her voice as she spoke, a question behind it she dared not voice. _What is keeping you from me?_

“Vhenan?” she asked softly.

He had called her _vhenan_ , an endearment so familiar that it touched her to the very core. It was a word reserved for those dearest to one’s heart, never used idly. But he had used it for her.

Solas blinked and drew in a sharp breath, emotions flickering over his face as if he only now realized what he had said. For a long moment, neither moved, then he took a step towards her as if drawn on invisible strings until he stood directly in front of her, cupping her face in both hands. Lyssa was transfixed by his eyes, her hands coming up to softly, carefully rest upon his hips, her heart beating quickly. There was gentleness in his face but a struggle as well as his gaze wandered over her face, following the trail of his fingertips along her cheeks, jaw, ears. Still, she did not move, even when his thumb grazed over her lips, coaxing them to part slightly. There was longing in his eyes, in his touch, but also something she could not quite interpret, something that looked close to fear. She watched the two emotions struggle on his face, waiting. This would have to be his decision. She had offered but she would not coax him into something he did not want. There was too much at stake, for her, for all of them. What had it been that Dorian had said? ‘It would paint a false picture of you and your Inquisition’. If there was any thought of her using her status as a way to pressure people into something like this, it could be disastrous.

But more than that, she had too many feelings for him to dare go too far, to risk pushing him.

 

His eyes came back to hers as he lovingly wiped a strand of hair back from her face and when he looked at her, she could see a decision form, a battle with self-restraint, with doubt, being won. Taking a breath, she finally closed the last bit of distance between them, her hands wandering from his hips around him to rest at the small of his back and looked up at him with flushed cheeks as he pulled her closer. A slow smile spread over his lips that softened the seriousness in his eyes as he shook his head. His hand wandered from her face into her neck, curling slightly in the locks that had come free from her braids and sending another shiver down her spine. “Vhenan,” he repeated and his voice was heavy, thick with emotion even though it was barely more than a whisper and kissed her.

There was heat in the way he pressed his lips on hers, his arms pulling her flush against him in the most wonderful way but they both held back, drawing the moment out. Drinking each others’ breath, tongues teasing, lips luring.

It was different than their kiss in the Fade and also the one afterwards, more real and full of meaning and Lyssa felt as if she would burst any minute from the wave of happiness that went through her at his caresses. _Finally_.

She could feel her fluttering heart in her throat as she eventually pulled back. Not only the presence of two of their companions just behind a thin tent canvas but also the knowledge that they were far from being in a safe place was too clearly in her mind. When they parted, she could feel his heart beat hard beneath her hand that rested on his chest. Lyssa took a deep breath, trying in vain to calm the storm of desire and happiness inside her as their eyes met. Solas looked at her with tenderness and warmth in his eyes, a slow smile on his lips that made him seem younger, softer, and she caressed his cheek.

“Ma himas garahnen,” he murmured and Lyssa gave him an answering bright smile, tilting her head.

“So does this mean…?” she asked, her voice barely more than a hum and he laughed softly.

“I thought I made myself quite clear.”

“I want to hear you say it,” she said and he looked at her for the longest moment, before he put his hand on her cheek, his eyes burning into hers with unhinged emotion.

“I want to be with you. Ar lath ma, vhenan.”

For a second she was speechless at the declaration, nearly shocked. After his initial hesitation she had not expected to hear these words in the near future, had hoped for a _try_ at a more intimate relationship at most - and got unrestrained, open emotions instead, proving to her that his reaction after their first kiss had had indeed nothing to do with a lack of feelings for her. The realization brought tears to her eyes as a mix of relief and happiness welled up in her and the feelings for him that she had cautiously tried to keep at bay broke free.

“Ar lath ma,” she whispered. And then her lips were on his again, her kisses telling him her love more clearly than words ever could and he responded in kind, the world falling away as they lost themselves in each other’s embrace. He held her lower lip between his, carefully nipping before he let her go again, his mouth wandering over her jaw to her neck, her ear, placing featherlight kisses upon her skin. She could feel him smile against her neck as she hummed her approval, her hands wandering over the muscles of his back to his behind, cupping him firmly as she moved her hips against his in a slow, teasing motion. The answering groan that rumbled in his throat coaxed a delighted sigh of her and then his hand was in her neck, pulling her in for another kiss, his mouth demanding and passionate upon hers, drinking her breathless moan. His other hand had wandered to her waist, still holding her against him, keeping the heat between them as his fingers teased at the hem of her shirt, not yet daring to venture beneath to find bare skin. A small groan escaped him as she answered in kind, her arm coming around his neck, nails carefully scraping over his scalp as she drew him closer, teasing, tasting. For wonderful, endless moments she indulged herself, losing herself in his touch, little sighs and hitched breaths the only sounds disrupting their kisses, hands pulling at clothes but not yet exposing. As if in unspoken agreement they eventually parted with an effort, both breathing more quickly. For a second, they just held each other close, foreheads touching.

 

“I really wish we were somewhere else right now,” Lyssa sighed, her hands wandering over his bare arms and Solas smiled, his hands on her waist tightening slightly.

“It seems as if we both are being tested tonight,” he said and she laughed. “Indeed.”

She looked up at him with still flushed cheeks and with a regretful sigh she murmured, “I still have a watch to finish. And considering what whom we met this afternoon, I’d better do that… without distractions.”

“So I am a distraction, am I?” Solas asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Instead of an answer, she slightly moved her hips where they were pressed against him, giving him a telling look as it elicited a sharp intake of breath in him. He laughed quietly. “Point taken.”

Slowly, they untangled and Solas sat down again at the fire, watching as Lyssa went over to where her armour lay and put it on again, her breath only slowly finding back to its normal rhythm. She was aware of every look, feeling his gaze upon her and as she looked over, a smile was on his face that made her whole body tingle with happiness.

“You are aware that you have second watch?” she asked, shrugging back into her jerkin, “I doubt we can rely on either Dorian or Blackwall tonight. Shouldn’t you try to get some sleep while you can?”

But he just shook his head. “I prefer to keep you company.” After a second, he added, “Even without distractions.”

She just raised her eyebrows and he laughed. “Ar dir'vhen'an.”

Lyssa gave him a look from narrowed eyes but he just smiled, offering his hand to her and after a moment, she laid her hand into his and settled down into his arm to begin her watch.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vhenan / Ma vhenan - Heart / my heart  
> Ma himas garahnen - You change everything  
> Ar lath ma - I love you  
> Ar dir’vhen’an - I promise


	10. Masks of gold and lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What did you say you liked about events like this? A heady blend of intrigue, power and sex?” she whispered and looked up at him from beneath her lashes as she heard his sharp intake of breath.
> 
> “Was that a challenge?”

Lyssa managed to calmly walk out on the balcony even if she wanted to run. For several minutes she could do nothing but breathe to slow her racing heart, inhaling the scent of the flowers and the night wafting up from the gardens below. The coolness of the night air soothed her after the heat within from too many people and candles and for some time she closed her eyes, letting the sound of the music and voices drop away. When she felt someone coming out to her, she had won back her calmness.

"That's the fourth time you're coming out here on your own. What's up?"

Lyssa would never be not fascinated by how soft the voice of a person so large as Bull could be.

"I needed some air. Too many people", she said, forcing her fingers to relax as she looked up to him.

"Yeah, I can understand that." He was silent for a minute before he asked: “So what is it? The masks?”

“How did you know?”

“I see you reading people’s faces all the time. Figured it’d be hard for you here.”

Lyssa took a deep breath and nodded. He was Ben-Hassrath after all.

“I should have known you of all people would notice”, she said, giving him a small smile. “It's a habit I picked up when all I could do was watch people."

Bull nodded, though his gaze was thoughtful. Lyssa had a feeling he wasn't really surprised by any of what she said but still waited for her to elaborate. She really didn't feel like talking about her past at the moment, though. Clearing her throat, she turned to him.

"How do you do it? Read them despite their masks?”

She had thought about it ever since he told her the masks did nothing to hide the humans’ true feelings. For her it was like walking through a jungle of puppets, blank and creepy marionettes dancing without strings, pouring honey laced with poison with their voices. Those with half-masks were not so bad but there were enough people with full masks that covered the whole face that she had no idea what truly lay behind their words and intentions. But she could feel their eyes on her and heard the whispers. The crowd did nothing to put her at ease, too often making it hard to breathe. She was glad for Josie’s relentless training before the ball. Without her, it would have been pure horror and even with all the preparation she felt a bad headache coming.

Bull accepted her diversion with a nod before he explained: “You’re too fixated on their facial expressions. Gestures and postures can tell you nearly as much.”

He turned around and nodded towards the couple he had talked about earlier. According to him, the man was sleeping with four different servants and the woman had an affair with another noble.

“Remember them? See how her body is nearly always at least halfway turned towards that noble with the ridiculous feather hat who continues to look to her? Every now and then she shows him a bit of ankle beneath her skirts and every time she does he hides a smile behind his glass.”

Lyssa had put her mask back on when she turned towards the crowd. She didn’t want them to have an advantage over her and she knew how expressive her face was. Bull waited patiently while she observed the woman. After a moment she nodded. “I see it. Ah, and he just deliberately touched that servant’s fingers when she handed him another glass.”

Her brow furrowed beneath the mask. “She hated it.”

Unlike the guests, the servants didn’t wear masks.

Bull nodded. “Yeah. The others are mostly indifferent and the third actually likes it but not her.”

Lyssa pressed her lips together and made a mental note to tell Sera about him so that Red Jenny could investigate.

“He’s also calling for something to drink way more often than his glass is empty and once even was so careless to whisper to one of them”, Bull added then raised his glass towards another couple, both with full-face masks. “Now. What do you see?”

Lyssa forced her eyes away from the unhappy face of the elven servant waiting to be called on again and watched the other couple. The overwhelmingly familiar feeling of dread when she couldn’t even tell from a distance if they were talking welled up again but with another deep breath she made herself look away from the blank golden masks.

“She’s nervous”, she nearly immediately said, blinking surprised and wondering how she could not have seen that before. The woman was holding her fan so tightly that her knuckles had turned white and she shifted her weight repeatedly from one foot to another. “Oh. I think he’s mad because she spent too much money. If they came together that is.”

Bull nodded. “They did. Why’d you say that?” He sounded pleased.

“Because he’s really rigid. His body is turned towards her but he looks away. And the velvet of his coat is partly worn while her dress is new. And laced with gems.”

She more felt than heard Bull’s chuckle and when she looked up at him, he grinned down on her. “See? No need to see their faces when their bodies tell you nearly all you need to know.”

Lyssa’s face lit up and she felt lighter as she nodded. It did take away at least some of the pressure she felt even if it wouldn’t help with the overwhelmingly crushing feeling of being in a crowd. 

“Thank you”, she said, feeling alright for the first time this evening and he laid his hand on her shoulder, pressing it reassuringly.

“Any time, boss.”

 

“Am I interrupting?” came Solas’ voice from within. He had two glasses in his hands but did not approach them until Lyssa said: “Not at all”, and smiled at him.

Bull nodded at them both and went back inside. As he turned the corner, Lyssa saw him wink at her and as if by accident, one of the curtains that were held aside by a silken rope fell close, giving her and Solas some semblance of privacy. Solas raised an eyebrow as he saw it and they shared a grin before he handed her one of the wine glasses.

“I thought you could use it”, he said as she thanked him and clinked glasses with her. “How are you holding up?”

Lyssa shrugged, taking a big swig of the wine. “Bull just showed me a few things that should help with the rest of the night. But I confess it’s a bit much.”

“You could’ve come to me”, he said, an unasked question in his voice. As he searched her eyes, tenderness welled up in her and without a second guess, Lyssa threw all caution for appearances into the wind as she took his hand, holding it tightly.

“You seemed to enjoy yourself. I didn’t want to spoil your mood”, she said. Solas slightly shook his head, a smile on his lips as his fingers interlaced with hers, soft caresses in his touch, his thumb drawing lazy circles in her palm, invoking memories of a completely different touch. This time, the reason for her heart speeding up was not at all unpleasant and for once she was glad for the mask hiding her blush.

“Ah, Lyssa. You couldn’t if you tried”, he said.

She couldn’t say if it was the wine that made her bold or just the need for something familiar and honest but as she looked at him smiling down on her, she could no longer hold the professional distance she had maintained until now. For once, she ignored the whispers from within and took a small step towards him, turning slightly as she did so, so that her body hid her hand coming around him to caress the curve of his bottom. Closing her eyes, she inhaled his scent, feeling the warmth of his body against her skin.

“What did you say you liked about events like this? A heady blend of intrigue, power and sex?” she whispered and looked up at him from beneath her lashes as she heard his sharp intake of breath.

“Was that a challenge?” he asked, his voice dropping to a seductive tone and his hand on her hip drawing her closer.

She tilted her head ever so slightly, her smile answer enough.

 

The bell calling her back to the ballroom rang.

 

Lyssa sighed deeply, regret flooding her. "I need to go back to the game", she said but didn't move.

"A pity", Solas answered and the way he looked at her was enough to make her breathless. They hadn't had much time for themselves after their second kiss on the balcony, leaving for Halamshiral not a week later and there was hardly any privacy to be had before and on their trip. Not with the big entourage, the tailors, coiffeurs and lessons on dancing and politics before their departure and the cramped wagons and tents and Leliana and Josephine taking up any free moment drilling her for this night even after their departure. By now, she wished for nothing more than a few days or even hours alone with him. Sadly, it would have to wait for a while longer.

"Keep the thought", she sighed, slightly brushing her lips across his before taking a step backwards and smiling. "You still owe me a dance."

"I have not forgotten", he answered, reluctantly letting go of her hand, a promise burning in his eyes as he watched her leave.


	11. Hands dripping with blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "By that logic you could kill half of the people here", Bull said calmly and Lyssa shot him a look.
> 
> "Give me the means to do it without hurting everyone depending on them and I might just do that", she said sharply.

"Or we could let her die."

Lyssa stared at Leliana, even as she ignored the shocked outcry from Josephine.

"We have that option?", she asked carefully, not looking at anyone but Leliana. 

"Of course", the Nightingale answered, holding Lyssa's gaze, explaining in short, clear words what she meant. Lyssa nodded slowly and thoughtful. A plan started to form in her head - an elf behind the throne of Orlais. Leliana seemed to have the same idea and Lyssa felt strangely understood as they exchanged a look.

"Why would you do that?!" Sera exclaimed.

"Why wouldn't I?", Lyssa answered, a hardness in her voice that was rare. "I thought you of all people would understand.”

“But she didn’t do anything to you.”

“What? Do you know what Celene did to our people?"

"Elves? Pfft. Our people, my-", Sera started but Lyssa didn't let her finish for once.

" _ My _ people then”, she snapped. “I am from an alienage, I know how it is living there and I have not forgotten how it is to be at the whim of human rulers. And even after I left I kept informed. I remember what she did. She's not called 'The butcher of Halamshiral' without reason. I'll support Briala."

"That two-faced asshat? She's not better than those fuckin' nobles, grabbing at every opportunity to better herself. Who do you think she gonna put in power here, huh?"

"As if being an elf at a human court is a position to relax in. I knew Shianni, the appointed Ban of Denerim. She was a damn good woman and what did happen to her? She was killed just a few years into her position and more blood was spilled and our oh-so-great king and queen did nothing to save her or anyone in Denerim's alienage. But if Briala has Gaspard in her hands, she has an actual shot at changing something." 

"But she was sleeping with Celene, even as she killed the elves at Halamshiral", Sera protested.

"I don't care she slept with Celene. They parted ways after Celene bathed herself in elven blood and you saw yourself that Briala is not above getting her hands dirty."

"Yeah", Sera scoffed, "and not above killing people who might hurt her agenda."

Lyssa flinched as she remembered the elven servant she saved from an obvious trap set by Briala. But she didn't waver. "I'm not saying Briala is perfect. But if I have the option, I'll be damned if I let Celene keep the throne. Her hands are dripping with the blood of innocents. She deserves to die."

"By that logic you could kill half of the people here", Bull said calmly and Lyssa shot him a look.

"Give me the means to do it without hurting everyone depending on them and I might just do that", she said sharply.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Lyssa scanned the faces around her. Leliana calm and assured, Cullen pensive, Josephine desperate and shocked. Sera seemed primarily angry by now and when their eyes met, the archer scoffed again and stomped away. Bull nodded at her before following Sera and for once, Lyssa couldn't make head or tails from the look in his face. But at least he didn't seem angry as well. Solas held her gaze for a long time, thoughtful but approving and she let out a breath she hadn't been aware she had held. He rarely weighed in into the decisions forced on her but his opinion still mattered to her more than most others.

"So how do we proceed?", he asked, coming to stand next to Lyssa who looked at Leliana, putting all thoughts of the magnitude of this decision out of her mind. There would be enough time to panic about it later.

 

Lyssa nearly faltered when she watched Florianne approach Celene, knowing it would end in bloodshed. This was different than a fight, different than attacking or defending. This was calculation, willingly accepting murder. No. It was condoning murder. Lyssa felt her throat close, pushing away the guilt welling up in her, and as Florianne stroke she closed her eyes, murmuring a prayer to Elgar'nan and Falon'din - the god of revenge and the god of death. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself for what awaited her next and was surprised at how easy it was to ignore Celene's body on the ground as she pursued Florianne outside.

 

"She really thought he would just give her Orlais", she wondered idly a half-hour later, looking down at Florianne's dead body. Somehow, hearing the late Duchess talk about Corypheus had helped her put the whole evening into perspective. This wasn't about Orlais. It was about Corypheus. And even after everything she had done this night, Orlais' fate still wasn't in her hand - she had only given it a push in a certain direction. A direction which could possibly bring peace to the whole of Orlais, including its elves.

"Come on. The night is not over yet", Solas murmured, softly running his hand over her back and Lyssa nodded.

"Yeah. I haven't had enough to drink yet", Sera muttered and looked up in surprise as Lyssa wholeheartedly agreed. When they shared a careful grin, Lyssa was relieved. Maybe their tentative friendship wasn't damaged beyond repair after all.

 

In retrospect, Lyssa couldn't tell what exactly happened in the following hour. Speeches and toasts and talks blurred together and when she finally found herself outside on the balcony again, she was tired to the bone and high-strung like a bow at the same time.

"I'm not surprised to find you out here", Solas said as he joined her, giving her a smile. "Thoughts?"

"It's been a very long day", she sighed and he tenderly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"For everyone, I'd imagine", he agreed. "It's nearly over now. Cullen's giving the men their marching order as we speak."

Somehow, that didn't really help. The thought of going back to traveling immediately, to another ten days of cramped nights and long days was tiresome in its own. Solas seemed to guess her thoughts and gave her hand a quick squeeze before he made a few steps backwards, bowing with a smile and offering his hand.

"Come. Before the band stops playing - dance with me."

"You haven't forgotten", Lyssa smiled, perking up and laying her hand in his.

"Never", he said and with the ease and skill she knew from their practice led her across the balcony to the tunes wafting out into the night. As their lips met beneath the moonlight the last of the tension of the evening fell away and the steps of the dance were forgotten when her arms came around his neck as he pulled her close.


	12. What matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I think everyone is entitled to a few secrets."

"That's not quite the look of a pining lover", Dorian remarked, leaning next to Lyssa. "And still you have been watching him for the better part of a half-hour. Don't tell me there's been quarreling? I couldn't take it for the life of me."

Lyssa boxed him on the arm without looking at him. Down below, Solas was still bent over his notes, his desk filled with open books, quills, ink, papers, an empty cup, some feathers and stones and pressed flowers she left him when he wasn't looking.

"There's been no quarreling, don't worry."

"Something is obviously wrong, though. You haven't smiled once and you always smile when you watch him."

Lyssa lay her chin on her arms, still not taking her eyes from her beloved below.

"He lied to me", she said softly and Dorian turned towards her, suddenly intent.

"What on earth about?" While his words had his usual air of playfulness, his slightly furrowed brow and the way he pressed his lips together told her he was concerned. As well as she could in her position, Lyssa shrugged.

"I don't know."

"Huh. Now you have me intrigued. Do go on."

Lyssa stood up after a last look at Solas and indicated Dorian to follow her. They made their way to the battlements, Dorian growing more curious by the minute.

"Congratulations, Lyssa, you have me completely in your hands for once. What is this about that you won't tell me about it in the library?"

Lyssa raised an eyebrow.

"You seriously expected me to talk about that basically in earshot of Solas?"

Dorian laughed. "Of course! Where's the fun now? Alright. Tell me. How can you know he lied but not what he lied about?"

Lyssa sighed, leaning against the cold stone, looking up in the evening sky where the first stars started to twinkle. "It's… it's strange. Something he said about…" She interrupted herself and bit her lip, looking out over the snowy mountains rising up before them. A cold wind whipped up from below, making her shiver. Shaking her head, she said: "Ah, this is ridiculous."

"Come on. Something he said about…", Dorian prompted, not in the least hiding his curiosity.

Lyssa sighed again. "Something he said about being at court. And about our people. Or rather his people."

"Your … his people. Elves?" Dorian seemed as confused as Lyssa felt.

"Yes - no. I don't know, that's the strange part I can't figure out."

"Lyssa. Darling. Honey. Peaches." Lyssa smiled as Dorian grabbed her hand emphatically. "This isn't working. I can't make head or tails from what your saying. Please start from the beginning?"

"Alright. We talked about what happened in Halamshiral and he said something about how he had forgotten how much he missed court intrigue." She paused and Dorian took the chance.

"How much he missed court intrigue? When was he at court?"

Lyssa gestured and nodded. "That's what I said! And that is when he lied. He meant what he said about the court and it matches what he told me in Orlais - but when I asked about it, he diverted, saying that he as an elven apostate of course never was at court, how could he, but that he had observed such gatherings many times in the Fade."

Dorian looked skeptical. "Hm. But well, he did indeed see many things in the Fade."

Lyssa bit her lip again, shrugging but then shaking her head. "I know he did. He even showed me some of them. But not this. I saw it in his eyes, I swear. It wasn't in the Fade that he experienced this. And then - he was confused when I talked about elves as our people. I mean, I'm used to it with Sera, but he honestly didn't get whom I meant as I said that I hope Briala will do good for our people. When I asked about it, he said he never saw himself as having much in common with elves. And just a few minutes later he said something about 'my people were never associated with the Old Gods'."

Her friend blinked, then he shook his head. "I am sorry, I still cannot quite follow. If he doesn't consider elves as his people - although I recall him talking about elves as 'his people' several times - then who does he consider his people?"

"I don't know", Lyssa confessed. It wasn't the first time that this discrepancy in Solas' words bothered her. Mostly she didn't really mind it and put it off to various reasons or thoughtlessness or the fact that he grew up with neither the Dalish nor with the City elves. If he never experienced any of the distinctive parts of either life, how could he feel kin to them? But something in the way he had talked this time had made her take notice.

"Well. He never quite had the air of a wandering apostate", Dorian said thoughtfully. Then he stood up straight and clapped his hands together. "I know what we need. We need a story to put the points together. Come on!"

 

Not long afterwards Lyssa found herself in her room, sprawled before the fire, a glass of wine in her hand. Thestand on which she dried her herbs had been put aside and filled the room with the fragrance of lavender, embrium and elfroot. Varric and Dorian sat across her, Dorian popping some grapes into his mouth. Somehow he had managed to organize a picknick in the shortest of times. Varric looked from Lyssa to Dorian.

"Alright, let me get this straight. Solas has been at court before, does or does not in some way consider elves his people, has the bearings of some sort of noble or at least aristocrat and not a wandering apostate but does not want anybody to know he has been at court."

"Correct", Dorian nodded. "Spin us a story! What kind of background would you give a character with these traits in your books?"

"I really don't feel like we should do this", Lyssa muttered unhappily. It felt wrong talking about Solas that way - but at the same time she was at a loss what she could do otherwise. She had tried to talk to Solas directly and all he had given her had been vague diversions and lies. And nothing Dorian or Varric knew was confidential, on the contrary. Everything had been said in public, in parts even directly to them.

"Oh, come on", Dorian said. "Don't leave us hanging, not after all this! You know we'll talk about it anyway and would have sooner or later with or without you. Nothing you said is complete news, you know."

"He does have a point, Ember", Varric chipped in. "Solas has raised many eyebrows and is in fact the center of several rumors, especially since the two of you… you know. Plus, it's really not that hard to figure out."

Lyssa sat up, putting her glass aside. "It isn't?"

"Do tell!", Dorian called out, an eager expression in his face.

Varric spread his hands. "Now. Don't forget this is all speculation. But it does fit what you told me. So. Imagine a young elven boy, just having discovered his magic, fleeing the templars and stumbling across an entourage of country nobles. They are having a picknick or it's a hunting expedition or just frolicking in the countryside - let your imagination run wild."

Dorian snickered and grinned at Lyssa and Varric when they shot him similar glances. "Hey, _you_ said 'let your imagination run wild'."

Lyssa shook her head and laughed quietly while Varric just shrugged with a grin. "Maybe even that. _Probably_ even that. Anyway, the young elven apostate tries to hide in vain and an equally young noble girl finds him. She is beautiful and kind-hearted and promises to protect him. She of course falls madly in love with him and he with her."

Lyssa couldn't help the dry undertone in her voice. "Do they now?"

Dorian nodded vigorously. "Everything is better with a love story!"

Varric agreed: "Absolutely everything is better with a love story, any publisher can tell you that. Besides, you don't want to deny that he is attractive enough to draw the attention of powerful people?"

She hid her smile behind her glass as the tips of her ears turned red. Dorian grinned.

"Chin dimple", he said with emphasis and she laughed.

"I was thinking more of jawline but yes. Chin dimple."

"Aaaaaaaanyway", Varric interrupted, "before you two start swooning over other body parts I don't want to know about, back to the story. Our resourceful young noble girl manages to convince her parents to grant the poor elven boy shelter - and since they are so far out in the country, no big cities, no circles but instead some court mage who can teach him, they agree. The details are wobbly and we may never know how exactly she managed it but here we have it: our young Solas manages to win the heart of a noble girl and, after some years, the official place as court mage in this hinterland country bannorn. So, basically growing up at court, even if it was small, he is of course familiar with the intrigues and games and since he was the lover of a noble, he also has the bearing of one. Plus, he never really had much to do with the servant elves or the Dalish or any elves, really. Hence his feeling of not really belonging to them."

"Amazing. Pray, how do our lovers part? How comes that he is now with us, or rather more correctly, with our dear Inquisitor?", Dorian exclaimed, ignoring the look Lyssa gave him. Varric took some of the cheese and shrugged with a grin.

"I'm still working on the details. But I daresay, tragedy struck, he had to leave - maybe she had to marry and he couldn't stand by and watch. Alone, he roamed the land, trying to find his place when BOOM - the breach. And suddenly, a dashing young woman, a fellow mage nonetheless _and_ an elf, stumbled into his life…"

"I would pay to read that", Dorian said around a mouth full of bread, gesturing towards Varric and Lyssa looked at the dwarf, horrified.

"You're not really thinking about writing a book about this, are you?"

Varric muttered something unintelligibly but the twinkle in his eyes made Lyssa groan. He laughed.

"Don't worry, Ember, I'll make you look amazing. In every way."

"I'm not sure that really puts my mind at ease", she murmured when Dorian refilled her glass.

"Listen, Lyssa, beside the fact how outrageous that story is and how much of it is completely unfunded or unwillingly even true, there is only one thing you have to think about", he said, suddenly very earnest. She looked at him curiously.

"Does it matter?", he asked.

She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"Does it really matter? For how you feel about him? It is obvious there is something in his past he does not tell you or anyone, really. Only a fool believes the story of the lonely wandering apostate. But does it matter? Does it change the person he is now, the things he does, the person you obviously love?"

Lyssa didn't answer immediately and stared into the flames crackling in the fireplace. Did it matter? The fact that he lied bothered her, that much was clear but as far as she could tell he hadn't lied to her about anything he did or thought at the moment. She remembered his words on the balcony, just before he had kissed her for the second time only too well: 'It would be kinder in the long run.' Maybe it _was_ something about his past that still bothered him and of which he thought it would affect her. But when he said he loved her, he meant it, all the way. And she loved him very much as well.

"I don't think so", she finally admitted.

"I think everyone is entitled to a few secrets", Dorian said quietly and for once there was no mischief at all to be found in either his face or his voice. She looked at him and they shared a smile. Then Varric coughed.

"Alright, enough with the emotional stuff. What do you say we move this to the tavern to make it an actual party?"

"And here I was, thinking you'd never suggest it!" Dorian leapt to his feet, downing his wine, then pulling Lyssa up. "Let's take the food and - ah, forget the food! More wine! I'd say it definitely is one of _those_ nights, don't you agree?"

With a lot of laughter they made their way downstairs. When they passed the Rotunda, Lyssa paused, looking through the open door to the figure of Solas who still was sitting at his desk.

"I'll be with you in a bit", she said to the two men and let them go on without her.

 

"That sounded like quite the party", Solas remarked as she came up to his desk, giving her a smile. Lyssa nodded.

"I would love for you to join us, if you are of a mind", she said, running her fingertips from his shoulder to his ear. There was tenderness in his eyes as he looked at her.

"I think I'll pass today. But you go ahead and have fun", he said and took her hand into his, kissing her fingertips.

Lyssa hesitated for a second, then she came a bit closer, sitting down on his lap. His arms came around her midst and he smiled. She touched his face lovingly, caressing his brow, ear, the jawline she loved so much.

"Solas, I want you to know something", she said quietly, searching his eyes. "I know you lied about having been at court before."

There was a sudden rigidness to his body she hadn't expected and his eyes got guarded but as he started to answer, she shook her head. "Don't deny it, I saw it. But I want you to know - I don't care."

Slowly, he relaxed the tiniest bit, his eyes intent as he watched her. "Whatever it is in your past you don't want me to know, it's alright. You do not have to tell me if you aren't ready or don't want me to know. Just - don't lie to me. Tell me you don't want to talk about it and I will not ask more about it. I love you. You. Now. Whatever shaped who you are now, I accept it, I embrace it, because it made you the person you are, the person I love. Nothing will change that."

As she talked, his hands had come around her more tightly as if he never wanted to let go of her. Now he looked at her as if he saw her for the first time, wonder and love in his eyes at her complete acceptance.

"Ar lath ma, vhenan", he whispered, softly pushing a lock of hair out of her face before he kissed her.

"Maybe I'll join you after all", he said when they parted and Lyssa's face lit up.

"Yay! You could use more breaks anyway." She jumped up and pulled him up as well. "Don't expect to come back here tonight. Or to your own room, for that matter."

Solas laughed and the sound was carefree and young as they went outside hand in hand.


	13. Of dragons and friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I wanted to kidnap you in the night. Sack above the head an' all", Sera told her. She obviously was in a good mood. Lyssa looked at her dubiously but she could see that the elf meant what she said.
> 
> Bull confirmed it: "Yeah, she even had the sack ready."
> 
> "Well, that would have opened another can of worms completely", Dorian said and the way he said it told Lyssa that they had had this discussion before. Probably more than once.
> 
> "Not if we had done it my way it wouldn't. I know ways, you know", Sera threw in and Lyssa shook her head, muttering: "Oh believe me, there would have been a can of worms."
> 
> ***
> 
> For the prompt: "I didn't expect THIS to happen."

"Well, what did you EXPECT?!", Lyssa yelled as she ran directly ahead of Iron Bull. She didn't know what was louder - the storm, the thunder, the dragon fire engulfing a tree directly next to them or Bull's laughter as he roared in the rain.

"I don't know - but it's better than I had hoped!"

"Over here!"

Sera's voice rang through the storm, full of laughter, and they changed course towards the small cave. Dripping, they stumbled into the darkness. Lyssa slumped against the damp wall, breathing hard as the dragon outside roared in frustration that her prey had vanished. Dorian had put both hands on his thighs, bending over, shaking with laughter. Lyssa looked from one to the other, increasingly disbelieving. With a flicker of her hand she ignited a small fire in her palm and looked at the other three.

"What in Fen'Harel's name were you thinking?"

The tone in her voice made them laugh again and Sera gestured towards an abandoned fireplace. Lyssa wasn't sure whether the drops on Sera's face were tears of laughter or rain and she shook her head as threw the fireball from her hand into the fireplace. They were lucky - the wood was still dry and it took the flames only a minute to flare up into a nice little campfire. They all shrugged out of their coats - all expect Iron Bull who didn't seem to mind the cold or water on his bare skin. Dorian huddled closer to the flames, holding his hands against them. But despite being wet through and through, he had a huge grin on his face that made Lyssa very suspicious.

"Seriously, who's idea was it?", she asked, but while the question wasn't directed at anyone specifically, she looked at him. The amused twinkle in his eyes and the way he twirled his beard told her the answer even before he said: "Mine of course."

"Of course", she said dryly, shaking her head. "Of course?! Dorian, what…"

Dorian interrupted her with a dismissive gesture. "Oh stop it. I thought it a good exercise."

"Exercise in what?"

Iron Bull came to Dorian's help: "Teamwork of course."

"Of course", Lyssa repeated, looking from one to the other. They all grinned at her and slowly, she was getting exasperated. "Alright, am I the only one not thinking all of this is obvious? And how is it a good exercise in teamwork if all we do is run from a dragon?"

Sera had taken off her shoes and wiggled her toes towards the flames. "Yeah, and what a dragon it was! Did you see her? Ain't she a beauty?"

Bull's face lit up. "She was glorious! Can we kill her next time, boss?"

Lyssa felt completely left out of the loop. Helplessly, she spread her hands. "I can't even…"

Sera seemed to take pity on her, even though the grin was still playing around the corners of her mouth. Rubbing her arms, she explained: "Dorian said he needed the egg."

Bull added: "And ever since we saw her back when we went for that red lyrium stuff, you remember? Ever since I wanted to go back and…"

"… and I asked them to come", Dorian interrupted. Lyssa was speechless. "Didn't expect the eggs to be so big, though."

The smirk on Bull's face was more than content. "I thought you'd be used to that by now."

The echo of Sera's giggle jumped from wall to wall, losing itself in the darkness. She held her fist up for Bull to bump it and for the first time ever, Lyssa saw Dorian blush fiercely. Even she couldn't help but grin. The relationship between the two was still fairly new and more than adorable despite Dorian's assurances that it was all just for fun. The way he had told Lyssa about it was way too fond for pure fun.

"Unbelievable", Dorian muttered and pointedly looked into the fire.

Bull grinned. "Doesn't matter that we didn't get it. Important thing is we went through with it."

"Right you are", Sera agreed, nodding vigorously. "Anything for our girl."

Dorian looked at Lyssa who still didn't quite follow. He snickered. "I don't think she gets it yet."

"That's the first smart thing you said all day", she said dryly and the others laughed.

Her friend's voice got very patient, as he said matter-of-factly: "Honey. What did you do this week?"

"You mean after you ambushed me on the way to breakfast to rush me away on an 'important' mission 'crucial' to the cause?", Lyssa asked with raised eyebrows and folded her arms before her chest.

"I wanted to kidnap you in the night. Sack above the head an' all", Sera told her. She obviously was in a good mood. Lyssa looked at her dubiously but she could see that the elf meant what she said.

Bull confirmed it: "Yeah, she even had the sack ready."

"Well, that would have opened another can of worms completely", Dorian said and the way he said it told Lyssa that they had had this discussion before. Probably more than once.

"Not if we had done it my way it wouldn't. I know ways, you know", Sera threw in and Lyssa shook her head, muttering: "Oh believe me, there would have been a can of worms",

Sera grinned at her. "Would've been fun though."

Bull tilted his head. "Sure about that?"

"Yeah!", Sera called. "You boring old cow."

Dorian threw his hands in the air, rolling his eyes. "Would you two bickering old women finally stop? I'm trying to make a point here."

"Oi!", made Sera but Bull grinned. "Sorry, 'vint. Do continue."

"Thank you so very much", Dorian nodded gracefully. "Now, where were we. Ah. Right, yes, after my tiny deception."

Lyssa crossed her arms, raising her eyebrows at him. He waved his hands dismissively.

"Oh please, it's not like you had another crucial mission scheduled immediately."

She sighed, finally settling down next to the fire, rubbing her hands together to warm them up. "Very well, I'll play the game. After your 'tiny' deception we rushed to the Storm Coast, stopping at far too many inns, having far too many ales…"

Sera clapped her hands, laughing happily. "Not enough for me."

Unperturbed, Lyssa continued: "… we came here, fought the dragonlings and went to search for the nest. Which you made me think had something important in it."

"It did!", Dorian protested.

"… and then the dragon came, not in the least as far away as you made us - me! - believe and we ran as soon as we realized we were so not prepared for this fight. And now we're hiding in a cave, there's a storm outside and…"

Dorian looked as if he had just won a prize, a huge smile on his face, when he finished her sentence: "… and when was the last time you thought about what happened in Orlais?"

The crackling of the flames and the howling of the storm outside was the only thing that could be heard. Lyssa just stared at him, dumbfounded, as Sera and Bull shared a knowing look. It was true. After the masquerade in Halamshiral, the events and the political implications hadn't let her have a single calm day. She even had come to regret what she had done when Josephine had occupied her for days, going over letters and missives, Cullen discussing group movements to help calm the civil war and Leliana had been briefing her about the gossip, threats and bribes which had arisen after Celene's death and her involvement. She barely had been able to sleep at night, worrying about death threats, spy reports and marriage proposals. It had begun to seriously affect her ability to function, with her thoughts going the weirdest way. Once she nearly fell asleep during the speech of a newly arrived noble who had in great detail and flowery talked about how thankful he was for welcoming him in Skyhold and how he would be a perfect match for her. Additionally, the University of Val Royeaux had asked Solas to join them on an expedition into some elven ruin and after Josie had talked in great length about what an honor this was and how it would further their goals, he had agreed to go and she hadn't seen him in more than two weeks. But ever since they had gone on this crazy trip of Dorian's, her days had consisted of fresh air, banter and laughter and drinks and stories, crude jokes and long talks. She hadn't wasted a single thought on Orlesian politics.

Dorian smiled fondly. "Told you it would work."


	14. Between the lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "CASSANDRA PENTAGHAST!"
> 
> Completely surprised, Cassandra looked up as the Inquisitor stormed into the room. An ominous silence settled over the few people already gathered in the hall.
> 
> "How DARE you!"
> 
> Lyssa pointed an accusing finger at her and now Cassandra saw that her face was streaked with tears. Shocked, she sat upright. What had happened?!

It was a quiet morning and the sun had only just started to color the sky in a faint pink as it made its way over the mountains. The winter had wrapped Skyhold in a thick blanket of snow that made it hard to leave the keep and for once, everyone was just happy to stay inside and take care of the things which were left alone while events took place outside of Skyhold. Cassandra was bent over her porridge, listening to Cullen's status report, more bored than interested, making a mental list of the things she had planned for today. That man seemed to never sleep. Her cup of tea was already cold, she realized when she finally took a sip and with a disgusted noise she pushed the cup away.

"No I don't think making the soldiers shoveling snow is the wrong approach to their training", she finally interrupted Cullen's rant. "On the contrary, it's -"

She was interrupted by a loud slamming of the door as it was thrown open.

"CASSANDRA PENTAGHAST!"

Completely surprised, Cassandra looked up as the Inquisitor stormed into the room. An ominous silence settled over the few people already gathered in the hall.

"How DARE you!"

Lyssa pointed an accusing finger at her and now Cassandra saw that her face was streaked with tears. Shocked, she sat upright. What had happened?!

"Inquisitor?", she asked tentatively, taking in the picture of the elf in front of her. She was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday, her hair had partly fallen out of her braid and the shadows beneath her eyes betrayed the lack of sleep. There were still tears shimmering in her red-rimmed eyes. Cassandra wracked her brain about the events of the last day but as far as she remembered, she hadn't done anything that would warrant the Inquisitor's anger.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" Lyssa's voice was no longer angry but sounded nearly desperate and the first whispers started at the other end of the table. Cullen looked at Cassandra imploringly but she was still completely helpless and couldn't even begin to understand what was happening. Behind Lyssa, Varric came in, looking annoyingly awake as he always did.

"What's happened, Ember?", he asked, his voice full of concern and immediately her attention snapped to him.

"You! You are as evil as she is! This is your fault!", she accused and Varric held up both hands, taking a step back.

"What did _I_ do?"

Lyssa's eyes snapped back to Cassandra and she stomped over to her, more falling on the bench than sitting down. She grabbed Cassandra's arm imploringly as another tear fell down her cheek. "She died! You made me love it and now she's dead! Why didn't you warn me?!"

Suddenly, the pieces fell in place and a smile crept on Cassandra's face. Her obvious joy while the Inquisitor still was completely out of sorts just added to the confusion. Cullen's mouth stood open in a nearly comical impression of utter bafflement as he looked from Cassandra to Lyssa to Varric.

Cassandra grabbed Lyssa's hand. "You like it?"

Understanding dawned in Varric's face and he groaned "Oh no", as Lyssa nodded emphatically. "I love it!", she exclaimed and Cassandra could barely keep herself from squeaking in joy.

The rest of the present people still didn't understand what was going on and several of them had started to quietly speculate.

"What…", Cullen started but Varric interrupted him as he sat down next to the Commander.

"Which one did you read, Ember?", he asked, a strange mix of defeat and pride in his face.

She turned to him. "The first 'Swords and Shields'. Please tell me you can get me copies of the other books as well?"

"If not, I can lend them to you", Cassandra assured her and Lyssa beamed. "Tell me, which…", Cassandra started but Cullen interrupted them.

"This is about a book?", he slowly asked, trying to catch on. Lyssa nodded emphatically again, wiping her face which was now devoid of any grief and instead full of enthusiasm.

"Apparently, it is quite gripping", Solas said as he came in. Other than Lyssa, he looked well-rested. Then again, he barely looked tired. It was something he had in common with Varric and which never seized to annoy Cassandra who always had problems getting up. An amused twinkle was in his eyes, as he sat down next to the Inquisitor. "She couldn't put it down the whole night. It was quite… interesting to watch."

Lyssa looked at him guilty but he only gave her a smile that said he had found it quite endearing. Cassandra still beamed and now nearly shook Lyssa's arm to get her attention.

"Which part was your favorite?", she said and Lyssa's face lit up.

"Oh dear, where to start?", she exclaimed and Cullen watched in amazement as the two women immediately fell into a detailed discussion about the book.

"What have I done", Varric stated and sighed, shaking his head as he helped himself to some breakfast.

"What indeed", Solas said and for once, he wasn't able to hide his smile.


	15. Fire dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At any other day he was reluctant to acknowledge anything the Dalish did, their customs and rites a weak echo of grand rituals of the past, nearly devoid of meaning and crippled so much that barely anything was left of the original intent. But tonight on the summer solstice, with Lyssa in the role of First and the air filled with magic and scents, he nearly felt thrown back in time. Solas could feel the spirits gathering beyond the Veil and knew that they would've joined the dance if they could have but somehow, the thought of them just watching did not raise the usual grief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea for the ritual came to me while listening to "Dance of the Druids" by Bear McCreary from the Outlander soundtrack.
> 
> https://play.spotify.com/user/nithiel/playlist/5L6lFOJfNSGjIcFFF43fcu
> 
> There are no canon Dalish celebrations, so the described ritual is purely my own imagination run wild.  
> But Thedas is clearly a world with seasons, there must be a summer solstice and with Mythal and Elgar'nan both connected to the sun, it felt right to make the solstice their holiday. I hope you approve :)

The stars had become ever brighter in the night sky as the moon had dropped below the horizon and the sparks dancing up towards them added their own magic to the night. The bonfire was huge and spiced with herbs and aromatic wood, bowls with water and scented oils placed next to it added their scents, making the air heavy and enchanting. The drum beat relentlessly, giving the single voice rising up to the skies heaviness and mystery and as she slowly raised her arms, magic crackled in her fingertips. Her feet joined the rhythm of the drums and then she was moving with them, turning and dancing around the fire, slowly at first then faster and faster, her magic trailing in long streaks behind and around her as she moved her hands in the old patterns and the stories began to unfold, written in light. Another drum joined and another, then a second singer added his voice to the first, matching her dance and his magic interlaced with hers, making the fire blaze up even more, blue and green sparks joining the white and red ones. Feet and drums beat faster and faster and the colors of the magic coalesced until all there was was white. They met and parted again, foreheads and fingers touching, eyes meeting and looking away, their dance a tease and a promise.

A sudden silence and the two stood still, the images fading away into the night.

 

Solas was sitting at the edge of the circle surrounding the fire, next to the companions who had accepted the gracious invitation to this normally Dalish exclusive festival. When Lyssa had asked the clan to be allowed to attend as guest at the summer solstice celebration and had been offered the honor of first dancer, her delight had been unmistakably. She had even shut Josephine down who had protested at the short notice and how they had other, more important meetings and tasks.

"No", Lyssa had just said, for once using all the authority the role as inquisitor granted her. "This is not up for debate. I will be in the Exalted Plains for the week. You will reschedule." And that had been that.

He hadn't wanted to come at first, still reluctant to acknowledge the Dalish, despite his love for Lyssa, despite his grudging respect at what they had managed to maintain. But for Lyssa it had never even been a question of whether he'd come and he didn't want to disappoint her - especially since his attendance was not really something hard to give. So he had put aside the resentment he felt due to the fact that this was a holiday in honor of Elgar'nan and Mythal, praising the sun's most glorious day of the year. And watching her joyful anticipation all during the travel here had been beautiful. It was rare that she was this carefree and full of stories. He knew she missed the life with her clan dearly, even if she herself did not admit it. The way she still worked on the mural in her room, depicting aravels and halla among green hills and huge trees beneath a night sky, the way she had stopped and looked at the Dalish encampment when they first saw it told another story. There was grief and longing in her features whenever she looked at either.

She had told them what to expect and what an honor it was that the role of first dancer had been offered to her - something normally reserved for the First of the clan who would weave the clan's story into the dance and thus, not easily given to outsiders. It was a testament to how she had managed to win the trust of the clan that they would invite her, the head of the Andrastian Inquisition. But despite her stories and explanations, seeing it firsthand was still something else. Solas was unable to take his eyes off her face which seemed illuminated from within. Her eyes were sparkling with joy and her breath was fast and heavy, matching the shimmer of sweat on her skin. Her hair was open for once, falling in waves over her shoulders, a lock or two clinging to her skin. She was wearing a traditional dress which showed more skin than everything else she normally wore and which was tailored quite masterfully to add to the effect of her dance, mirroring and lengthening the trails of magic she had painted into the night. And there was happiness in the way her lips curved in a perpetual smile, a happiness that made his heart ache with the need to see her always like this. He'd seen it before in the way she looked at him. 

At any other day he was reluctant to acknowledge anything the Dalish did, their customs and rites a weak echo of grand rituals of the past, nearly devoid of meaning and crippled so much that barely anything was left of the original intent. But tonight on the summer solstice, with Lyssa in the role of First and the air filled with magic and scents, he nearly felt thrown back in time. Solas could feel the spirits gathering beyond the Veil and knew that they would've joined the dance if they could have but somehow, the thought of them just watching did not raise the usual grief.

 

It was nearly unnoticeable when the drum started again, slowly, quietly, building up until with another blaze of the fire, all drums joined as one and the two elves were dancing again. One by one, the other Dalish joined them, all who were able to, taking hands and matching their steps. Hands clapped in the rhythm or were turned towards the skies, smiles were shared and cries of joy. There was no magic this time, no other than the magic of the dance which raised a cone of energy that made the air crackle. The song had been taken up by many of those staying at the side, adding to the atmosphere and cheering the dancers on.

And suddenly, she was before him, breathless, offering him her hand and without thinking, he took it. He hadn't recognized the dance but now that she led him through the steps he realized he did know them after all. It was an ancient dance. Some turns and figures were missing, others were crooked or taken in the wrong direction but it was recognizable once he saw the pattern. And suddenly, it did no longer matter that they had dedicated it to Mythal and Elgar'nan for its original meaning went beyond the Evanuris' rise, celebrating life itself in its purest meaning. But even that wasn't really important. The only thing of importance was the way she laughed at him in delight when he dared to take the lead and how she revelled in the dance. This was nothing like the evening in Halamshiral, when they had danced a human dance to the human tunes wafting out to them. It had been beautiful and he still fondly remembered the way she had laid her cheek against his, eyes closed, exhausted from the day and the decisions. But this was different. She was so much in the moment it was hard to believe the night would ever end. This was full of power and energy and promises. She felt at home, both in her clothes and in her surroundings and Solas felt like he only now perceived her fully. It made him fall in love once again in a way he hadn't anticipated.

He tread on dangerous ground, he knew, but for this night, nothing mattered but the feel of her arms around his neck as their feet stamped and twirled and the look she gave him. Somewhere in the crowd he could see Dorian laughing as he was led through the dance and even Varric clapped with the drums from the side, a wide grin on his face.

 

The night wore on, even as the dance ended.

 

Solas found himself in the midst of a crowd, children and adults alike hanging at his lips as he told stories of old - from "his travels into the Fade", of dreams and spirits he encountered, of old truths and of events that were remembered in the old elven ruins. He was called hahren and earned smiles and respect, and discussed magic and theories with their Keeper while Lyssa reunited with acquaintances from the last Arlathven. It was a night of joy and wonders and when he brought her something to drink and she laughingly introduced him to the clan's First - the second dancer - he suddenly realized that this could be their life together. He grew still in the midst of the crowd, looking around and taking it in. The bonfire which had shrunken down but still managed to illuminate the colorful aravels and cloths which formed the camp and making the white fur of the halla glow. The elves gathered, laughing and talking and flirting and _living_ , sharing plates of food. Lyssa next to him, talking to her friend and absentmindedly but tenderly running her hand over his back. Children running around or already asleep in their parents' arms or on furs and blankets, one or two snuggled against halla. A lingering of faint magic in the air, enhanced by the scents of the oils and the fire. For a few endless moments he could imagine one of the aravels being theirs, and their sole purpose to collect wisdom and knowledge, to heal and to protect, without the burdens placed on them. He could slowly make them understand, let them know what happened. And for a long moment, desire for this life made his heart clench and it was hard to breathe.

 

He stood up abruptly and left the camp, wandering into the night until the light of the fire lost itself on the planes. His eyes were turned towards the place where his friend had died, forced into a reality she had had no interest in, doing horrible things she hadn't wanted to do, corrupted by the touch of this world. His throat closed.

' I take my commitments seriously, Seeker. Come what may, I shall see this through', he had said to Cassandra nearly a year ago and even though she had been talking about the Breach the same was true for his original plan. He would see it through. He had to.

 

Soft fingers interlaced with his and he closed his eyes, schooling his face as he felt the familiar and treasured touch. Her lips touched his neck and when her hand came to his cheek, he tilted his head towards her until their foreheads met.

"Vhenan, are you alright?", she asked softly.

Without answering, he put his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace, inhaling her scent, feeling her warmth. How could he give this up? She held him close, his rock of life and hope in a world he sometimes had troubles understanding. For a long time, they just stood there, holding each other, until she loosened the embrace to look up at him.

"What is it?", she asked again and not for the first time he was tempted to just tell her. Tell her everything. To share the burden, the decisions. But as his eyes fell on the markings on her face, the slave markings marking her for Sylaise and which she bore with such pride and without the knowledge of their true meaning, his heart sank. No. Not today.

"Solas?", she asked again, concern in her voice and puzzlement in the way she looked at him, shaking him out of his thoughts.

"I was just thinking about my friend who died here", he settled for a half-truth.

Lyssa's face fell and she nodded full of compassion.

"I told the Keeper about her and they made offerings in her honor. She will live on in their stories", she told him softly and Solas looked at her in wonder.

"Truly?"

Lyssa nodded and he smiled, albeit sadly. "Good", he said quietly. "It is a good way to remember her."

She studied his face for a long while in the way she so often did, before she asked: "Do you want to go back?"

Solas looked a last time towards the place where he had lost his friend, taking a deep breath, before he nodded and they turned again towards the warm light. Tomorrow he would take up his burden again. Tomorrow.


End file.
